King to the Queen
by Magdalenara
Summary: This story tells what happens after the film ended; Dastan must try to win the reluctant beauty's heart, which won't be an easy task, even for the Lion of Persia. But soon enough, Dastan and Tamina have to work together when trouble is awaiting in the shape of an old enemy: Koshkan.
1. Chapter 1

**King to the Queen**

**1. The Royal Meet and Greet**

It has been three days since the Persian Army had raided her city and Princess Tamina, daughter of Sarkander, passed king of Alamut, walked quickly through the corridors of her palace, heading towards the Great Hall, where the Persian King Sharaman would be welcomed.

She wore a quite simple dress, white linen silk. However, it suited her elegant appearance rather beneficially and emphasized her simple, elegant beauty which she had inherited from her mother- plus, her wisdom, of course. The strong, wilful, stubborn head on her shoulders, the strength to voice her opinion and to never show any fear was a quality, usually possessed by her father- but she had always been Daddy's little girl.

The servants bowed formally when they opened the doors of the Great Hall and she entered almost unnoticed. Only the glance of a particular Persian Prince found her shape and immediately his lips formed this well-known, in her opinion, far too intimate smile.

There had also passed three days since her acceptance to his quite clumsy and apparently unintentional proposal. The very thought of this memory made her blush and she forced herself to interrupt the eye contact. She headed to the throne but instead of placing herself in the soft pillow seat, she stopped in front of the Golden Throne and turned around to face the great hall doors. Her ears had already caught the voices from outside; applause, cheering shouts.

The arrival of a true king. Not like Prince Tus.

Driven by this thought, Tamina dared to take a look on the eldest son who stood next to his brothers in front of the doors, his hands shook nervously while his lips apparently moved in light speed to intonate another prayer. Tamina had to suppress a contemptuous snort. He was nothing like a king, she had seen how he needed the advise of his father, how he was longing for it. He was too weak for the right choices, he had not the stomach for things that had to be done.

The other brother, _Prince_ Garsiv, was a completely different matter. He was like any common soldier she had met in her life, rough, brutal, greedy and without any drop of honour. Even the lowest butcher would not dare to call himself a prince, but this one here didn't seem to have any problems with that.

And the youngest son...

Tamina bit her lower lip in nervousness while she was shaking her head frantically to get rid of the thoughts about this Prince, other things were far too important today to be distracted by only _one_ man, even or especially if this man was her husband-to-be.

A knock on the great doors of the Hall drew her out of her wild thoughts and she nodded in order to give the servants at the gate the sign to open the massive doors. She had insisted on this protocol, to let her subjects and beloved people know that the king was a guest, that he was coming as a friend, not as a conqueror.

King Sharaman, an old man wearing a royal crown on his now grey hair, entered slowly the Great Hall of Alamut, from outside the palace had already looked impossibly beautiful but this Hall was of a simply overwhelming regal elegance. He only needed a few moments until his eyes found the shape of his three sons and immediately a bright smile crossed his lips. He headed to his children who met him half way and surprisingly for Tamina they hugged each other as warmly as she had never seen or experienced it before.

Her eyes went wide for a second before she caught herself and regained the stern and silent face of the Princess and High Priestess of Alamut, even if she could not prevent herself from feeling a little pain rising in her heart while she observed this family image. Her own family was long gone. From her distance she could fairly easy overhear the talk between the father and his sons, even if she pretended not to listen.

"To invade a Holy City-

What were you thinking?" the king spat out, but he did not even let his eldest son try to explain his motives, while he continued to speak "You don't think, you can not think!".

Tamina fought against the impulse of pity, Prince Tus was a full grown man, responsible for his action and besides. She remembered her own childhood. After her parents died, she had been forced to be the head of her city, she had been criticised almost constantly, but she had understood that a ruler was always the target of critics and in time everyone had to learn to deal with it.

"And you, Son?

Let me guess, you supported every wish of your brother with a hand on your sword, right?" he asked or better he noted, for it was more like a reproach than a question while facing Prince Garsiv who was reducing his look shamefully to the ground.

"They only did what they fought was right, father." Tamina was not really surprised to hear Dastan defending his brothers, again, but unfortunately for him, his father was not yet finished with giving them a talking-to.

"And you, Dastan, the _Lion of Persia_-

I thought you were smarter and not just someone to follow everything your brothers say and do.

Alas, why did Allah gave me 3 sons instead of 1 obedient daughter!" he blasted, hectically gesturing with his hand while his sons dodged in defence and Tamina was faced with the almost impossible task to not burst out into a loud and heavy laugh. However that would be so not Princess-like and so she covered her amusement behind eloquence and diplomatic friendliness as the king caught her glance.

Immediately his slightly angry look turned into a wonderful, fatherly smile which was quite surprising and strange to her, but she did not notice it any longer and headed towards the king.

In front of him she paused in her walking abruptly and performed a deep and pretty ceremonial bow which was unusual to her and to most of the audience, for the Princess of Alamut was usually not bowing to anyone. When she caught his eyes again, she smiled with the lips of a diplomatic and started speaking in a way that Dastan had never heard her speaking before. She was actually capable of being polite and respectful!

The memory of her soft appearance standing in the middle of a Persian crowd and insulting them rushed through his mind, but he shook the image off. He had sworn to himself to live in the present, and not to think of a time which would never come to pass, again.

"Great King Sharaman, I welcome you to my City.

We all feel honoured by your presence.

And we are even more honoured to tie bounds with such a great and wise empire, exactly as wise and great as its ruler.". The king laughed lightly about her introduction, impressed by her skills as a politician it was his turn now to reply her greeting.

"Lovely and wise Princess of Alamut, in all corners of the Orient, I have never looked upon such beauty as your city, except you, of course, my dear.

I am deeply honoured and grateful to Allah that he blessed me with such a new daughter-in-law, I am certain that _all_ of my sons are able to learn many things from a magnificent sovereign such as you are.". Tamina offered him a warm smile and surprisingly even for her, it was an honest smile. She had liked this kind, old man from the very beginning, a part of her was forced to think about her own father, but she forbid herself such thinking. Her father was long gone, and since the day of his burial she had never needed a father again.

The feast in the the Great Hall of Alamut had started in the early evening, but even now, far after midnight the crowd in the magnificent Hall was still sitting around the banquet which had been built up like a circle. Tamina sat at the middle of the circled table, on her right side were the Persian King and his Crown Prince Tus, on her left side were Dastan and the Soldier-Prince Garsiv.

Even though she pretended not to observe the Persians, it was almost _impossible_ not to recognize their table manners, the Princes plundered the banquet as if they had never eaten in public before.

As the Princess and even more as the High Priestess she never ate any meat, every living creature possessed its soul and as a Guardian she was sworn to protect life, every life.

Sometimes she caught the eyes of the Persian King and a smile crossed her lips, Sharaman was an extraordinary respectful person, during the eating he had forbidden them any talking about the battle, in order not to offend you. And she was grateful for it, she never wanted anything more than to forget about that battle, all this blood, all these widows...

Tamina shook her head frantically to get rid of those feelings, this was a feast, all Alamut was celebrating that their city was still alive and that was something worth celebrating. Slowly she rose from her seat walked towards the middle of the table, before she rose her voice, warm, welcoming, friendly.

"I have a gift for you, King Sharaman.". The old, Persian King lifted his head and observed her curiously while she gave Asoka a sign through one, single hand movement and her most loyal soldier brought a long sword, veiled within a magnificent scabbard. She took the sword out of his hands and drew it with an elegant movement out of his protection, her eyes admiring the long and sharp blade for several seconds, before she let it fall into both hands. Sharaman rose up and took the sword carefully, letting it fill his hands with the power of long passed days while Tamina was explaining the sword in his hands.

"This is the Sword of Alamut.

Every ruler of my house wears it in battle and in times of danger, we take it to ride at the head of the army to defeat evil, just as my father did it, and his fathers before him.

Great stories have been written with this sword, within it lies the soul of Alamut and its three virtues." She spoke with a proud and bright smile on her lips, her eyes observing the Persian king who admired her sword speechless, but then he frowned his forehead and turned around to face her.

"What three virtues?".

Tamina offered him a challenging smile as a response to his question and immediately she began to walk slowly through the Hall, never losing eye contact with the Persians, while she said only three, simple words. "Wisdom, Patience and Purity.".

King Sharaman laughed lightly about her response and shared a little look with his youngest son.

Both of them thought of the City's virtues more as the virtues of a particular princess, but instead of sharing this thoughts loudly, the Persian King took a last look on that magnificent sword, before he gave it back to her.

"My dear Princess, as lovable as this gift is, I fear I can not accept it, for I feel that your heart and the story of your family- everything that's left from your family for you- is bound to this sword.

So keep it, with my blessing and the love of a father, for I do already see you as a daughter.".

Tamina's first reaction was a very lovable, very true smile, but then the expression on her face changed as if she wanted to cry. Her head sunk down and she pressed the sword on her chest almost violently, her wrists very heavily clenched, so much that they had gone white. Shocked by her illogical behaviour and reaction, Sharaman touched her shoulders and by doing so he forced her to lift her glance up to his concerned eyes.

"Did I say something wrong, my dear?" he said and the concern in his voice forced a new smile on her lips while she fought against the silly tears of an even sillier princess.

"No, forgive me, it's just...

It's been almost fifteen years since someone has called me a daughter.". Her response was saturated with tears. However, if it were tears of sorrow or of joy, no one could have said, but the smile on her lips seemed to be so happy and free. Dastan remembered that smile so well. Back in this time which could never come to pass, when they had reached the Secret Guardian Temple outside of Alamut, she had smile just the same sad and happy alike way- and the very memory touched his heart even more.

King Sharaman touched by her pure appearance and soft character, leaned forward and placed a soft and light kiss on her forehead, just as her father had always done it, so many years ago. Silence had been falling on everyone in the whole Great Hall and every possible pair of eyes was focused on the incident in the middle of the round table. Tamina laughed lightly at this gesture of friendliness, before she sank to the ground, kneeling at the feet of the Great Persian king and then she took his right hand and kissed it, before she put it on her head.

The image of an obedient daughter.


	2. Chapter 2

**2. A family's tale**

"Good morning, Prince Dastan.

Get up quickly, we have a lot of work ahead us.".

Dastan nearly fell out of the bed by such strange words on a deadly early morning. He blinked several times, making sure she was not a ghost or a fata morgana, coming to annoy the wits out of him. But no, she was real, real and loud and annoying.

"Good morning to you, too, Princess." he answered with a tired and low voice, still in the process of getting awake, while he pushed the bed sheets aside and to his sensation, she was turning around rather quickly.

"No time for a Persian breakfast, so, eat quickly." she demanded with a feisty grin and Dastan pulled one eye brow up in the air, blown speechless by her bold behaviour at these early hours in the morning. However, instead of countering with one of his stubborn, mocking answers, he just replied to her demand with a question.

"What do you mean with 'we have a lot of work ahead us'?".

"You are going to be the King Consort to the Queen of Alamut, you must know of more things than you already do. Whatever that might be." she countered and snorted contemptuously while she quickly turned around, ignoring her hungry stomach she kept on talking.

"You will learn of this City's history, for it will be your city soon, you will get to know of its people and most of all of its greatest treasure. We are chosen, Dastan, the Gods have chosen us to be the Guardians of their gift, and we have to serve our duty with faith and dignity.".

Dastan sighed heavily. He knew she would keep on praising that bloody knife until the sun danced around the moon, in one matter she was such a woman. Talking, chatting, speaking- forming words in light speed, wasting millions of sentences for one simple, unimportant matter.

"What do you know about the Dagger of Time, Prince Dastan?".

Dastan nearly suffocated at the attempt to disguise his shock while he swallowed hard- _he definitely had to learn how to disguise obvious feelings_.

"Nothing, really, I know nothing...about any dagger.".

"Wow, you Persians make really bad liars.".

Tamina did not even wince at his clumsy response and threw her judgement out of her mouth like a rotten insult, her eyes full of the lethal shine that swung in her voice. Dastan lowered his head under her stern facial expression. How did she do it, to drive him so successfully out of his mind, out of his thinking? He was the bloody _Lion of Persia _and yet he felt helpless near her, defeated by even one of her looks or a soft touch of her velvet voice to his ears.

"My highest duty is to protect the dagger, as it will be for you.".

"My duty is to protect you, Tamina."

Apparently she did not like it to be interrupted, especially not when he was forming almost forbidden, sinful words. He was to be a Guardian and for a servant of the Gods, a Protector of the Holy Dagger, nothing was more important than this Dagger.

Not her family. Not the people she loved. Not her subjects. Not her friends, of course, she had none.

And particularly not for the sake of a certain Persian Prince who was looking at and speaking to her in a way she had never experienced before. If she didn't know better she would have said that it was love which was glowing softly in the depths of his brown eyes, but of course, she knew, this was impossible. She only knew this _Prince_ for a span of four days and yet she had not figured out if he really deserved the title he claimed.

"I knew this would be complicated.".

* * *

><p>"Where are we going, Tamina?".<p>

Dastan's question came from behind her back. He was busy with following her murderous pace into an unknown part of the palace. Or to be more precisely, to a part _under_ the palace, a path he knew far too well. He was quite nervous, considering the fact that she was leading him again directly to the Sand glass of the Gods.

Was it not enough that he was haunted by these terrifying memories every night?

Does he really had to face this terrible place again, where he lost the most precious person in his life, was it possible that she knew perfectly well what she was doing to him?

Was lying under that beautiful face the black heart of a cruel woman?

But surprisingly to him, they did not enter the Chamber of the Sand glass, they bent off to the right and headed then to a quite different part of of this secret passages. They found their way into an old and apparently ancient hall, full of dust and covered with white and golden sand. Slight rays of sunshine found their way on the ground as they broke through the old and crumbly ceiling, so that they did not even need a torch to light their sight. Dastan moved on his own through this subterranean hall, admiring the small and fine runes at the walls which were painted in red, black and dark brown letters on the stone, a language he had never seen before.

"This is the tomb of my family.", her voice from behind him made him startle and he turned around quickly to see her standing before seven sarcophagi, all placed in a row and then he realised her word fully and walked towards her, as she continued speaking.

"This is were all reigns of Alamut lies, my father, my five brothers.

And my mother, the Great Rajira.", by her last word, the memory of her mother, her fingers touched the greatest stone sarcophagus, admiring it with the soft touch of a daughter, adoring it with filial love in her deep brown eyes. Slowly, Dastan took in the whole picture, he understood that this was _her_ family, all that was left from her family was lying here in sands and stone, silenced by eternity and sworn to watch over their daughter and sister.

Dastan had to swallow hard, he could not imagine himself how it must be for her to be alone. He had always had a family since the King took him into his own home. He had lost a family and won another, but she...her family was gone forever, and she had no one else, she was on her own. In a strange kind of moment he felt pity for her, he felt how the wish arose in him to protect her, clearly a quite hilarious feeling. However he got to understand that all her hard and disciplined self, all her faith and her duty was a face she was only wearing for the outside world.

What face would she wear for him?

"She was born as a slave girl, did you know that?

She was my father's most loyal and wisest adviser.", Dastan looked up by her words, recognizing her thoughtful face, the look of a full-blood monarch, a queen, full of strength, a sort of strength he knew he would never possess.

It was something his father always used to say. Women possessed a different kind of strength. Men were brave, they fought battle, defended their kingdoms and always sought for honour and glory. However, women, women had the strength to speak when others remained silent, the strength to give life instead of taking it, and even the strength to forgive men's weaknesses. She possessed all those strengths, but there was more to her than that and now he could see it while she was looking at him with this dark shine in her eyes, she had the will, and the pride of a man.

* * *

><p>"How did your family die?" Dastan asked behind her. She led them deeper and deeper into the most sacred parts of the tomb and by his words she turned around slowly. To his shock, her face was distorted in pain, but only for a moment and then it disappeared so quickly, so that he believed he only imagined himself this picture.<p>

"Do you really want to know?", her words came out with a broken and shy voice, so unlike to the usually strong and stubborn princess he knew and so he was nodding carefully, before he answered.

"I really want to know.".

Tamina nodded silently while she turned around again and continued going slowly while she was apparently searching for the right words to the start with and the minutes passed deadly silenced until she began to speak.

"Well, you were not the first ones who breached our walls.

They came in the night, like dark shadows, evil spirits.

My father tried to fight them and his five sons followed him- but they were too many.

And my father watched his five sons, the future of our house, die, slaughtered by our enemy.".

At this part she made a pause, images were flooding behind her eyes and she had to clear her throat before she could go on with her tale.

"Meanwhile, they locked up the Guardians into the most sacred place of Alamut, the High Temple, capturing them in there and then, they burnt it down- the Priests, the Priestesses, they did not even spare the young Acolytes.

They did not even spare the life of the High Priestess- and so, my mother was burnt alive.".

Her breathing quickened along her speaking and Dastan who could feel her pain almost physically, drew one hand out to comfort her but soon enough he reflected a better and left it alone, waiting until she felt strong enough again to continue her talking of her past.

"As soon as my father got to know of his loss, grieve overtook him, to lose his sons was terrible, but to lose his wife, the love of his life was unbearable for his heart- and so he forced himself into my chamber to undo all this evil.

Of course, I knew this was forbidden, my mother had told me of the greed of men, but I would had never thought that my own father would fall under this darkness.", now, the words came out of her mouth as fast as blade strikes, shaken with the fear and the grieve of memory, blurred with pain and something he would had interpreted as anger.

"He tried to get the dagger, but I knew I could not let him get it, it was sacred and it was my duty to protect it- even from my father.

And as he grew more and more angry it was only matter of time until he lost control.

I can still feel his hands around my neck to press the life out of me and to get the dagger.

And I had no choice but to follow my destiny and so I drew the knife I was caring ever since and slit his throat without thinking.".

Eventually, silence overtook her and she sobbed several times without tears, staring into a point far off the present, caught in memories of the past, the things she did wrong and the things she had to do. Now, Dastan could not hold back any longer, his calloused hand placed himself so naturally on her shoulder to calm her and to give her solace. However, she withdrew herself from his consoling act and moved some feet away, speaking again and now her voice was mixed with a strange fusion of pain and cynical humour.

"No one knows about this story, save me, Asoka and some of the most trusted Guardians, we thought it would not be right to destroy the honourable name of my father by the truth and so we invented the version that he was killed in battle like my brothers.", she took a deep breath and continued with her talking.

"The most difficult thing was the knowledge, the knowledge that only a few feet away was the key to change all that's happened, to change me back into the little girl I was, with my mother, with my family- but I knew it was wrong and so I kept this wish within my heart, for all these years to remind me at the consequences of the sinful wish of changing time.".

Then she turned around and continued to walk, but a few paces away she turned around again and faced him with a look in her eyes which made him startle once more. The anger and the stern emotionless, the cold threat in the brown of her eyes was more than just a warning.

"Only to be fair, Dastan, I am not as naïve any more as I was as a little girl.

If you ever try to get the dagger without my permission I will not hesitate to end your life.

So be warned.".

She trusted no one, she was Queen, she was a High Priestess, she was to be his wife, and she was trusting no one, the least him.

But actually it was herself she trusted least.


	3. Chapter 3

**3. Preparations for a wedding**

"We are Guardians, we have to protect all life, for all life possesses its soul, every man, every animal and every plant, if we take their lives, we may gain their wisdom, their strength, but also their sins, their blood lust.

It is our duty to protect all life and that's why we protect the dagger." Tamina said while her hands gestured offensively throughout the inner courtyard, pointing at several plants and servants who were passing by, bringing them refreshments. Both sat on the stone ground, turned to each other, enjoying the warm but not hot sunshine at this morning while the Princess continued her explaining about the Order of the Guardians and Dastan kept on pretending to listen.

Actually he was just staring at her and he was quite grateful to have the excuse of listening for his impolite acting on this nearness. It was interesting to see how she opened up as long as everything seemed to be within her control- and Dastan let her believe so.

Two days had passed since she had woken him in such a rude and not very Princess-like manner. Tow days, since both of them had gone to the family tomb and he got to know of her family's tragic history and how all of this was linked to this cursed knife she seemed love more than anything else, more than she could ever love him?

Since that morning, Tamina had come to his chamber every morning, and every day they went on talking about Alamut, her people, her history. _Her_, she was always referring to Alamut as a female, as if her mother was still walking and breathing within these walls. However, he came to know that this city had actually been founded by a woman, the first Guardian and not surprisingly for him, the girl's name had also been _Tamina_. At first, it had felt strange to him to be lectured by a woman but now, he had come to enjoy her teaching. The way she was talking about the world and the things in it meditated a different image of all living to him.

"To be a Guardian means to serve mankind, and to live our three and highest principles.", Tamina continued, "To respect all live, to honour the truth and to love the gods. A person who embodies all three principles and virtues within him, well, he gains a power that is described with one word.".

Now, Dastan narrowed his deep brown eyes, filled with fascination for his teacher, "What word?".

Surprisingly to him, she clenched her hands to fists while leading them to her forehead and bowed then with closed eyes highly ceremonial to him, before she rose up to answer his question. "Harmony.".

Then she opened her eyes again and reached her thumb up, so she could put it on his forehead, tenderly touching the spot between his eyes, just as light as a feather. His first reaction was to stiffen reasoned by this unexpected touch but then he sunk in this feeling, an almost enlightening feeling which began to claim his thinking. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily in response to her touch and for a moment or two there was nothing existing in this universe any more but her and him.

However, as soon as she heard him sigh she withdrew her hand and as he opened his eyes again he could not but recognize the red colour on her cheeks. She cleared her throat several times before she continued in her talking, still avoiding his eyes and the impolite expression of amusement within them.

"To be a Guardian means more than just gaining knowledge, you will learn practises to school your spiritual power, through meditation and prayer, I will teach you how to do it and then you will receive the mark of a Guardian.".

"Mark of a Guardian?".

His voice pierced through her thoughts and she lifted her glance up to his eyes, his dangerously seducing brown eyes that kept her breathless for more than just one moment and she literately had to force herself to respond something to his question.

"Yes, all of us are wearing a visible sign for the outside world.".

"What sign?".

She took a deep breath before she put her hand in her neck and withdrew the long black hairs from it, before she turned her back to him and now he understood. Her hand exposed her bare neck and it showed a deep dark tattoo, almost pitch black letters written in an unknown language. It took him more than a second to remember that it must be the same language he had seen in her family tomb on the walls.

"What does it mean?".

"It means that I am a true Guardian, the High Priestess and Protector of all Guardians.

It means that I am an instrument of the Gods.", she observed his features while she spoke, trying to read his eyes and to understand what he was thinking. However, to her surprise, for the first time in her life she couldn't read one person's eyes. Slightly nervous she went on with her explanations, hoping that this uneasy feeling might fade. But she didn't come so far when she was interrupted by his confused and concerned words.

"Did it not hurt?".

"Pain is something every creature has in common, it's the one thing that makes us all equal.".

The concern in his voice had made her speechless for one moment but she had hid her emotions behind her mask of divine control. The concern in his voice was dangerous, yes and dangerously seducing her own mind. And it took her more than just one moment to get her thoughts back to reality.

"You waste all your life only for this one dagger...", he spat the words out like they felt like disgusting fruits, his jaw was tensed and his hands clenched to fists. He was obviously fighting with his own rage. Tamina didn't know why this fact enraged him so easily, but she didn't even want to know either. No one had the right to look down on her beliefs and again she felt her bold mouth do the thinking for her head and she started furiously snapping at him

"Not for this dagger!

Did you not listen to any word I said?

I am sworn to protect mankind-

And I am doing this by protecting the dagger.

Good day, Prince Dastan.".

* * *

><p>"Focus, <em>Prince<em> Dastan.".

Dastan sighed heavily as he swallowed down the teasing response that had just wanted to escape his lips. However, he'd reflected a better and just decided to stay silent. She was definitely not in the mood for his usual teasing. And yeah, recently- after their argument about the dagger- she had returned to the formal title which was obviously not a good sign.

"I won't say this twice, _Prince_ Dastan.".

His head swung back to her and he growled lowly in his throat. Her eyes were still closed and yet she knew exactly when he was losing his attention to something else again. He returned his focus back on her and lifted his hands up, his palms turned to her, almost touching her reached out palms, only separated by millimetres of pure air. He finally closed his eyes and let go off a deep sigh.

"Concentrate on the one thing you cannot see." she whispered lowly, her breath crashing against his face like a wave of sweet winds, leading his mind back to the fact that their bodies were barely kept apart. They sat cross legged in the great court yard, on the bare warmed up earth, their bodies turned to each other, their hands almost touching the other one's hands. It was one method to school his spiritual power as she called it. Well, he hardly believed he got any.

"My eyes are closed, Tamina, there are many things I can't see, right?".

Tamina opened one of her dark brown eyes when she got his words, she looked under the eyelash to find him grinning, but his eyes still closed. She shook her head in disapproval and closed her eyes again. She knew he was a stubborn non-believer.

"Focus on the feeling of my hand, can you not feel it?".

Now that she was talking about it, Dastan did feel something but he hardly believed it was the same thing she meant. His hands felt boiling hot, a tingling feeling under the skin of his fingers, a slight electric tension that crawled from her flesh to his. This electric tension let him feel like a magnet, his body and his mind automatically drawn to her, his thoughts irrevocably pulled towards her. Little itches of warm and cold waves shocked his palms- and he wasn't even touching her.

"I...", he wanted to say something, but his tongue felt useless and anyway he couldn't really think of any words that could describe what he was feeling right now. Second, he couldn't say anything, because Tamina was just as usual faster than him.

Suddenly her right hand reached forward and took his hand, his eyes popped open at the sudden contact when he actually saw that she moved his hand towards her and placed it on her slowly rising chest. The electric rush that burnt through his senses made his breath quicken in response and he swallowed hard as her left hand slowly placed itself on his chest. He locked eyes with her and was confronted with her mysterious, unreadable brown eyes.

"As a Guardian you need to sense your environment. You need to be in complete harmony with your environment. Learn it, feel it. Try to synchronize our breathing and our heartbeat.".

Dastan was way too focused on her chest which rose steadily under his hand's touch to pay attention to any word she said, and he had to clear his throat- several times- until he got the thought to speak again. "How is that even possible? I can't...".

"Yes, you can.".

There was it again. This sincere seriousness in her voice, this soft velvet voice thickened with graceful authority and power. The power she already held over him.

Dastan was silenced by her words and focused on his task instead. Although, firstly, this was an impossible task and secondly was he far too distracted by the feeling of her chest which rose slowly, steadily under his touch. He felt the familiar flipping in his stomach, the light hint of arousing passion which was always provided when he was this close with her. He then closed his eyes and let his resistance be washed away by the simple feeling of her.

Her breath was cool and sweet, softly flying over the skin of his face, letting his mind imagine the taste of her lips. The hand on his chest was so small and yet so strong, mirroring the contradiction that this woman was. Fierce fire behind divine beauty. He could feel her heart beating under his large hand and even through the layers of silken clothing he noticed the slight speeding up of her pulse, reflecting his own racing pulse and beating heart. He knew, no, he _understood_, that it had been his reaction to her closeness that had affected her, too, and her heartbeat.

He then tried to calm down, concentrating on calming his wildly beating heart by slowing down his breathing. His chest rose slowly and steady, letting her palms feel the difference, letting her feel his calm steady breaths, his strong beating heart and eventually her body responded to him. He could literally feel how she relaxed under his hand, she let go of a soft sigh and this very sound alone made his heartbeat quicken again. Fascinating and surprising to him, so did her heartbeat.

Bewildered he opened his eyes, only to find Tamina staring at him. He couldn't really read the expression in her eyes, but he did recognize that they were definitely darker than before. There was a slight hint of a smile around the corners of her mouth and he swallowed hard by the realization of what he just did.

Now, their hearts were beating in exact the same pace and tone.

* * *

><p>Dastan sighed heavily while he put himself on the couch, his fingers loosely intertwined while he tried to fight the boredom that threatened to overcome him again. He was in a hidden area of the High Temple and waited for the old priest who would give him his tattoo that would mark him as a Guardian. Yesterday he had succeeded in the task Tamina had given him, he had synchronized their beating hearts and according to her opinion he was ready now to be taken into the covenant of the Guardians. And now, he was sitting here, bored as hell, bored as a little boy on a wedding, or as a Persian Prince in a sacred Temple ritual.<p>

Then the Priest finally approached- considering his long white beard and the winkles in his face, plus the slow, slurping walk Dastan thought that he could be glad that the old man approached at all, and not died on the run to him. The Prince observed the old Priest while he prepared the instruments and the dark red ink for the letters. Tamina had explained to him that her circle was divided into the three classes: the High Priestess who wore the black letters, the average Priest and Priestesses that were marked by dark brown letters and the young acolytes who could be recognized by their red letter tattoo. Dastan still growled at the insulting thought that he was soon on the same level as children according to the system of this so-called divine covenant.

"I'll do it.".

The all too familiar sound of a female voice tore him out of his thoughts and his eyes widened, since he hadn't recognized that she had slipped into the room as well. The old man bowed to his High Priestess and handed the instruments over to her, before he started to leave the room in slow slurping steps again. Dastan wanted to say something to her, the sharp instruments in her fragile hands bewildered him, he wasn't quite sure if he should be glad that she would do it or not.

"You need to take off your shirt.", her voice was still quiet and soft, but he couldn't but recognize that she refused to meet his eyes while she said those words or that her cheeks started to redden when he did as she'd told him. He could literally feel how her eyes flew over him and his bare upper body and although he knew it was stupid, he still felt some kind of pride that she apparently liked what she saw.

"Lie down on your stomach." she simply instructed after she had cleared her throat, a little bit too obvious in his opinion and again he did as she'd told him. Now that he couldn't see her any more he focused instead on the sounds she made. Her breathing seemed a bit faster than usual and then there was the terrible noise of the sharpening of the instruments.

"Take this. It might help...for the pain.", now her voice trembled with an unknown tone and he threw a look over his shoulder to lock eyes with her. She offered him a piece of leather, obviously she thought he could not take the pain and might cry like a little baby.

"I don't need it." he simply said and refused, snorting contemptuously at the thought that he- the _Lion of Persia_- was scared by something like a little pain. His head lay on his arms again and so he couldn't see that she raised her eyebrows in disbelief and disapproval, before she took the thin instruments into her hands.

"You men, strength is more than just withstanding pain.".

At first he felt her hands in his neck, the soft fragile shaped fingers were like cool brushes of air while she pushed his dark brown hair out of his neck and he couldn't but shiver by her touch. He had the impression that she took her time, more time than she would have actually needed and he gave himself into these moments, before she began with the procedure.

When the sharp thin knife scratched his skin, she carved the letters in long, curved lines and circles into his flesh. Every time she started a knew letter he stiffened in response, his breathing quickened in response and soon he was heavily panting. The pain was electrifying and burned his senses, it was somehow bearable, since he could keep himself from vocalizing any of those shameful cries that stuck in his throat. His hands grasped the ends of the couch, his fingers violently digging into the wooden underlay, so hard that his knuckles turned white.

When he felt her stopping he thought that it was done but then she started spreading and injecting the red colour under his skin and the burning pain he felt was beyond any description. It felt like he was constantly touching embers and the pain increased and increased until he thought he must have fainted but still he felt everything. At some point he started swearing, he cursed like he had never done before in his life and he felt ashamed to use such rude language in front of her. However, if it bothered her she didn't complain or cut him off either. Perhaps she even felt complacent, her lips probably saturated with a gloating note that she had been right, but if she did so, she didn't voice her little triumph over his vain ego.

And then the pain slowly faded and the burning heat was replaced with a cool comforting touch. It took him one or two seconds to understand the procedure was done and that it were her fingers in his neck that tried to caress and soothe the sore skin with tender and careful movements. She brushed over his scrubbed flesh with her little fingers, only whispers of touch, scared to give him too much pressure. Dastan relaxed under her little hands' movements and let go of a deep sigh while he stretched his back into her touch like a lazy kitten in the sun.

"You can get up now, Dastan." she said, but her voice had been barely more than just a whispering, her words low and raspy, almost as breathless as he was and it took him more than just a moment to understand what she had said. Slowly he propped up on his forearms and eventually he sat up straight and now he was able to look into her beautiful deep brown eyes.

Her hand was still in his neck and tried to soothe his sore skin while he believed to lose his mind into the depths of her eyes. Suddenly pain stroke through the spot of his neck when she gave him a little bit to much pressure and automatically he suck in a deep breath to calm himself. His eyes squeezed shut and her touch left his neck in a split of a second.

"I'm sorry...", she murmured and turned away from him and put the instruments into a bole full of water. Then she turned around to him again to bind up his wound and he sat perfectly still, save for his eyes which followed her movements like little dots of dark brown fire.


	4. Chapter 4

**4. Just Married**

Dastan knew now that he was not exaggerating when he thought that he was as nervous as he had never been before in his whole life. He could feel his palms starting to sweat, the little thin hairs in his neck started to raise at the one thought that ruled all his thinking.

Tamina was waiting in their bed chamber. Right now. Alone. In _their_ bed chamber.

A couple of hours ago they had been wed in the Great Hall by the words of an old Priest and with the paternal blessing of his father. He remembered the ceremony quite clearly. The moment when Tamina had walked down the aisles had cost him his breath. She looked more beautiful than any woman he'd ever seen. Nothing could have destroyed that moment, nothing could have ripped him off the feeling of being the luckiest lad alive. Though he had felt the sting of jealousy sneaking into his heart when it had been Asoka who escorted her towards the altar. Dastan didn't like the idea of any man touching the woman he loved. Although Asoka had taken her father's place at this day, Dastan couldn't quite get rid of the impression that Asoka's feelings towards Tamina were not of the paternal kind. Dastan shook his head in order to get this guy out of his thoughts. Tamina was his wife now, no force in the world could take her away from him now. His pulse quickened again when he let the meaning of those words sink into his mind. _She was his wife now. _

They both had attended the festivities of the wedding as the patient bride and groom and as traditions expected them to do so. And after the eating, and the drinking and the far too provocative and rude speeches, Tamina had left the feast in order to prepare herself for the last tradition on their wedding day.

Now, there he was, walking towards their bed chamber in order to fulfil his expected duty as the groom. Suddenly, the memory of this one kiss flashed through his mind. The kiss they had shared at the altar to seal their marital bound. Her lips had been sweet and soft under him, open, welcoming...

His eyes squeezed shut and his Adam's apple jumped in excitement as he swallowed hard, trying to fight back the fears and he couldn't but laugh at this curious new feeling.

He, Dastan, adopted son of the great king Sharaman, he, the _Lion of Persia_, he was _scared_.

Certainly, he was not afraid of Tamina, no, it was _him_ he did not dare to trust. Since, he knew as soon as he passed that door to their bedchamber he would have the hardest fight he'd ever had in life- with his conscience.

He didn't intend to claim his right as the groom and the husband. Dastan had thought about it during the wedding ceremonial and when he'd kissed her he knew he didn't want to take her as his wife until she came to him willingly. He didn't want this to happen only because of duty and traditions, he wanted Tamina, not just as his wife, but as a woman. And he was willing to wait for this moment as long as he had to. Of course, he knew as soon as he passed that door he would have a hard time in resisting her..., well pretty literally. But he knew it was worth it. _Tamina_ was worth it.

Dastan pushed the door open and sneaked into the chamber, his eyes observing the room in quick looks. The room was darkened, only a few candles lit their way to the centre of the chamber and there on the great bed sat no one but Tamina.

She was not looking at him, her eyes consequently pointed at her bare feet while her fine fingers were clenched to fists and dug violently into the white, soft sheets on the bed. He could see that she was just as nervous as he was. Her chest rose in a heavy, but steady rhythm and her cheeks started to redden, caused by his enduring and intense gaze.

And then finally she lifted her eyes to meet his look.

Dastan swallowed hard at what he saw in her dark brown eyes, now even darker than usual.

He could easily read the fear in her beautiful eyes, mists of fear clouded the divine brown, but there was still something else, too. A strange note of determination burnt in her eyes, and still, it was not the determination of a wife, nor of a priestess. It was the determination of a woman.

When he continued to remain silent and still, her eyes moved quickly like a frightened deer in the forest from right to left and up and down until they focused on him again. Then, she finally stood up and began to walk towards him. She was barely dressed as he could see now. She only wore a white night gown, more like a think silken cloak and he knew, he just knew that under this cloak was nothing but skin. His Adam's apple jumped at this thought and he felt his body tense at the sight of her. Her long, black hairs flowed now overtly over her shoulders, framing her fair face.

Dastan only got to know how damn close she already was when he felt her breath hitting his face in streams of the sweetest and loveliest scent he'd ever smelled. It was intoxicating. _She_ was intoxicating. Automatically, he closed his eyes in order to gather his senses and his strength for those ultimate words than had to be said, but then he was completely torn out of his thoughts.

Her wonderful, slender fingers wandered to the thin belt that kept the silken night gown of a cloak together and she easily loosened the knot...and Dastan felt his determination slipping away under the promised sight of her velvet skin. But then...

Tamina stiffened immediately as his hands rushed forward and lay themselves around her wrists in a careful but tight grip. Her eyes were fixed on his chest instead of his face, she knew she couldn't muster the strength to look into his eyes while she was doing this. His breath was heavy and hard and burnt on her skin like pure fire, but he didn't do anything. Moments passed and he still just kept her wrists in his grip, holding her from undressing any further. Being this close to him was dangerous, dangerous for her determination, for her senses, her duty, her whole being as a Guardian.

However, she had never really believed she could get through with this without losing something of herself to him and to the mystery that he was.

As the grip on her wrists loosened again, she wanted to continue taking off her night gown and again, she found her hands captivated by his strong finger's grip.

"Tamina, could you just stop...undressing yourself?".

His voice coming from the back of his throat made her shiver heavily and her eyes fell shut for the glimpse of a moment as she gave herself into the sound of this voice- until she understood what he just said.

"What?", her tone was high pitched and destroyed the last bits of this sensual moment. Dastan freed himself from the feeling of being intoxicated by her by clearing his throat several times.

"I don't want this, Tamina.".

"You don't...want...me?" she asked and couldn't but smile in disbelief at this thought. Dastan sighed at her words and walked away from her. He stopped at the bed where he took a sip of wine from the can on the table.

"Am I not good enough for you, Persian?".

At this point her words were sharp as deadly blades and her eyes just as small and fierce as they had never been before: after all, she was still a woman and she had never been good at rejections. Dastan chuckled lowly at her words and turned around. His eyes flew over her state of undress; the cloak of a night gown was still half opened and exposed a great deal of her legs and her decolletes. Her eyes fell down to the floor at his gaze and her cheeks reddened again while her hands rushed forward to rearrange her dressing.

"You know it's not like that.".

"What is it then, Dastan?".

"You don't love me." he stated and she was shocked and silenced by this truth that seemed to mean so much to him, "And I know you're only willing to do this because you think some old traditions and duties expect you to do so. But you're not doing this because of me, not because you _want_ me.".

Tamina remained silent at his words, she didn't really know what to say to such sincerity and what could she respond? That it was not true? That would be a violation to all her duties and moralities and above all else a violation of her pride.

"I can wait and I will wait." he said and his words made shivers run down her spine. She closed her eyes at his words, trying not to show any of her feeling that ran rampage within her heart. One part of her was shocked at his words, since a marriage was only sealed by the physical consummation.

The other part of her felt relieved and even charmed by his offer to wait. She knew beyond any doubt that no other man would have offered her to wait. However, there was still a little voice within her that did not want to wait. Although she would never admit it to herself, duty was not the only force that drew herself to him. But still she remained silent. Not ready to make this revelation, not ready to swallow down her pride.

"I will only take you fully as my wife when you really want to take me fully as your husband. On the day you come to me in true love and desire, not just as my wife, but as a woman.".

Dastan sighed heavily when he rolled to the other side of the bed, before he finally opened his eyes.

The sun was already at its highest peek and the other side of the bed was already empty, not even the shallow scent of warmth was left to tell him that he'd _shared_ a bed with his _wife_ Tamina.

The thought was electrifying for two reasons. First, still he couldn't really believe that they were married now, husband and wife, drawn together for the rest of their lives. And second, he indeed shared a _bed_ with her, but unfortunately nothing more than that.

Tamina had left their bedchamber quite early in the morning and he couldn't get rid of the thought that she had left not just because of the preparations for the coronation today. Last night, he had told her about his story of the Sands of Time and the treacherous spy that still walked within the walls of her city. Apart from that, she was possibly still mad with him that he _rejected_ her as she stated it.

Sometimes, Dastan had the feeling women would try to misunderstand men on purpose.

He sighed again as he sat up straight, stretching his still numb and tired limbs, blinking furiously at the sudden flash of light that pierced through the open windows. Instantly, a memory burnt through his mind and he felt his body shake at the sensation. He had hardly slept the night. His mind had been far too aware of the fact that it was Tamina's body who lay next to him. His skin had felt the warmth of her body right next to him and he knew that all he would have had to do was stretching out his arm and he could have touched her. His hands could have wandered down her body, admiring her curves and the softness of her flesh, drowning in the sweet scent that her long black hair promised. He could have felt how it would feel when she shivered beneath him, wounding her legs around his hips, moaning his name and his name alone when he'd pleased her.

A heavy shiver ran down his spine when he closed his eyes and tried to calm his wild thoughts or the hardened arch he felt in his linen trousers. He knew he wanted to wait for her. But last night had been more torturous than any other battle he'd ever fought.

And he knew there were a lot more battles and nights to come.

Dastan sighed relieved when he finally took off the heavy ceremonial robe, the white stiff fabric had felt so unnatural to him and he felt liberated, now that he could feel the fresh air on his upper body again. He threw the robe on the bed and again his glance twitched back to the small and filigree crown that lay on the bed. He was _king_ now. Well, theoretically only a King Consort, but still he was king. _And she was his queen._ Dastan knew the coronation had only been a formality. It had been a condition of her father, that she had to be married first before she could gain the title of the _Queen of Alamut_. However, Tamina had always been the highest authority of Alamut, due to the fact that she was the last of her house. Therefore, the coronation hadn't been necessary, but it was a tradition, and in Alamut traditions were all that mattered, Dastan thought contemptuously.

Dastan startled when he heard the creaking of the door and instantly he jumped around.

Tamina stood on the treshold and stared at him with big, mysterious eyes. She was still dressed in those white, ceremonial clothes that exposed a lot of her cinnamon skin to his eyes. In the flickering light of the candles that lit the room he could see the painted henna tattoos. Dark, black letters claimed her arms and legs and fingers, speaking old and foreign tongues on her throat and even in her face. A long black line was painted on her face, a horizontal line that run over her eyes and emphasized the powerful brown pupils even more. Her pitch black hair ran down her shoulders, but he knew it would not run down her back any more.

Still he felt the shivers back in his spine when he thought at the moment when the priest had drawn the knife and cut her hair. A sacrifice of blood and part of the flesh of the monarch had been needed to seal the swear of everlasting loyalty to her people, her throne and her duty. That moment in the Great Hall when she had spoken her swear three times, when she had made her sacrifice, that moment had been thickened with an atmosphere of days of old honour and dignity. She had looked so big, so unreachable for him when she's stood there in the middle of the Great hall, the impressive crown on her open hair, the purple mantle around her small shoulders. So divine. Like a true queen.

However, now, she looked small and fragile again, the purple mantle under her arms, the crown in her left hand, she looked human again, she was _Tamina_ again.

Dastan was torn out of his thoughts when she cleared her throat, he tried locking eyes with her but she looked away and he knew she felt uncomfortable with him staring at her like that. Instantly he looked away and swallowed hard, trying to gather his thoughts.

"Turn around. I'd like to change.".

His head came up when he heard her words and he was once again confronted with her deep, brown eyes. He then turned around quickly, his eyes trying to focus on something, anything, in order to not think about the fact that the rustling of noises behind his back meant that she'd soon be naked.

Dastan stared into the flickering light that came from the candles, he tried to focus on the exact technique of a back flip, the most dangerous battle he'd ever thought, the days when he used to spit seeds at Garsiv...but none of this was helping. His ears _did_ hear what was happening behind him.

He desperately closed his eyes, trying to ignore the sounds he heard, sounds that meant so much to his mind and which inflamed his thoughts with images of her wonderful, young body.

Dastan's heart stopped dead for a beat or two when he felt that her arms embraced him from behind, her arms coming around, driving over his chest and pressing him against her. He swallowed hard when he felt that she was completely naked and this thought made his pulse quicken in response. Her young breasts pressed themselves into his back and he felt his hands twitch at the longing to touch her. Tamina rested her head on his shoulder and breathed in his scent, sighing relieved and thoughtfully.

"Don't you even want to look at me, Dastan?".

He shivered in her embrace and took her words all in before he turned around quickly, almost too quickly for her to get his movements. Automatically, she took a hesitant step backwards, but his strong, calloused hands rushed forward and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look at him and she gasped at what she saw in his eyes. There was pure, wild desire, a longing so overwhelming that one could hardly call it human any more. His almost pitch black eyes burnt themselves into hers and she felt her stomach fly with butterflies of fear and desire at the sight of those looks. She had always known how it felt to be desired, but she had never felt the wonders of responding to such feelings.

She waited anxiously, hopefully for him to kiss her and indeed she could feel his breath on her face. But he did not kiss her, his lips didn't melt together with hers, didn't capturing, conquering all her senses- he just kept staring at her, before he finally turned away. And so she kept on burning in dry flames, feeding on ashes and not on the fire that longed to be satisfied.


	5. Chapter 5

**5. Marriage, a thorny path of love**

Dastan rushed through the corridors of the palace, his face a mirroring mask of his wild, angry thoughts. And he was angry. He cursed again, when he passed another corner, approaching the bathing halls in long, confident steps.

They were married for hardly three weeks and he was already cross with her.

Last night there had been a council's meeting, unfortunately for him, he hadn't been invited.

Koshkan, their old enemy was approaching the city, according to the rumours he had had the _luck_ to hear of and yet Tamina wasn't doing anything. She didn't gather the troops, didn't evacuate the city. No, this spoiled Queen of an even more spoiled city simply gathered a council about that matter without consulting him, her _highest_ military adviser, her King Consort. Her bloody _husband_!

Dastan narrowed his eyes when he saw the guards attempting to block the doors from him so he couldn't enter the bathing halls. Was this whole city against him?

"Get out of my way." he ordered in a barely controlled voice and the guards swallowed hard at the look he shot back at them. However, they didn't move away.

"We have orders to...".

"Your orders have changed." he commanded and then the guards stepped away willingly, apparently afraid of a Persian's wrath. Dastan didn't waste a look on them and simply pushed the door open which swung back swiftly and with a loud creaking. At first, he could barely see anything, the hot water of the bathtubs made the air grow foggy and opaque and hesitantly he tumbled forward. Then, he heard the sound of splashing water and he knew just in which direction he had to go, following the noises that came out of the back part of the halls. When the foggy, hot air finally grew thinner and he could see something, he was struck by the sight that was offered to his eyes.

Tamina lay in her huge bathtub, her face covered from his looks with a book she was reading. Oh, and she was completely, utterly, stark naked, from head to toe. Dastan's eyes lingered on her for only a moment before he remembered his manners and flung around, almost tumbling over his own feet in the attempt to behave like a true gentleman. Tamina, who had already known that it was him, slowly lowered her book and put it on the bathtubs edge, before taking a glass of wine and enjoying its delicious flavour.

"Hello, Lover.".

"I...ah..." he uttered helplessly, his tongue feeling completely useless and he had to shut his eyes in order to force the image of her magnificent naked body out of his thoughts. Still with closed eyes he searched for the appropriate words, words to excuse himself for his intrusion, the words to argue with her about the topic he initially had come to discuss. However, obviously his mind had gone blank by her sheer breathtaking appearance.

"Never seen a naked woman before, Dastan, or why are you stammering all along the way?".

"I am here, because...because...the council..." he tried again, but still he couldn't find any words to express what he wanted to say. His mind automatically pictured her body when he heard her charmingly sweet voice behind him.

"The Council...what?".

That was it. That's what he needed. The amusement in her voice got him out of his stammering, blushing, boyish behaviour and he turned around in one single swift move. His eyes now furiously narrowed at her and only focusing on her amused face.

"You gather a council without inviting me? You discuss military matters and decisions without consulting me?" he snapped at her and her formerly calm face froze upon his disrespectful tone.

"I am your queen, I do not have to ask you for any permission." she countered calm and without showing any emotions. How much he hated it when she stayed like this. Unaffected by her emotions when he was so obviously impaired by them.

"Koshkan is Persia's enemy and thus he is yours.

This is a man who killed your whole family, and you're just doing nothing? What do you think, eh?

You think he would spare you and your people if you surrender to him like you did before?

Do you really expect him to distinguish between us and you? No, my lovely Princess, you fraternised with us, he is your enemy now, just as he is ours.

If he attacks us, he will breach the walls of your precious city, Princess!".

Dastan expected her to snap back at him just as she always did, but still she possessed the ability to surprise him every day in a new matter. Instead of spitting any counter insults at him, she simply moved in the water, approached him slowly and then pushed herself half out of the water.

"Really?" she said seductively and he shivered heavily by the tone her voice got. She was close enough to whisper those words into his ear and he didn't have to lower his eyes to know that her wet, naked upper body was barely inches away from his body. Dastan shivered in pleasure and pain, even though he didn't want her to be his wife in that sense, his body arched for her touch and he was constantly out of his mind when she was near him.

He cursed Allah for making him so infallible for this woman!

Dastan stared at her with furiously narrowed eyes, her lips formed a seductive smile that showed her superiority and her contempt she felt for him. He could feel how her small and yet so strong fingers gripped his shirt in the attempt to pull him into the water, in order to make him surrender.

However, he stiffened in her touch and his eyes froze to golden stones while his hands grasped her wrists in a cold, hard grip and pushed her slightly away from him. Tamina's smile didn't waver, she simply slipped back into the water, acknowledging his determination and his will not to surrender.

For this moment, they called it a truce.

* * *

><p>Dastan had never been a friend of spying and overhearing, of listening to mysteries from little, dark, undignified hiding places. However, as long as he could help it. Unfortunately, Tamina had the interesting and exhausting ability to force him to break almost every principle of morality he'd ever followed in his life and now he was finding himself spying on her. He hid himself behind a secret wall, peeping through a small hole in the stone and listening to the muffled down voices of the councillors. If he couldn't attend the council officially, well, then he had to find other ways to get to know what was going on in <em>his<em> city and behind his back.

"It was a foolish thing, mistress, a foolish thing.

This...this brute barbarian that they sold us as a price is unacceptable! And you, my high lady, even led him into our order, directly pointed his Persian nose to the Dagger!".

Dastan growled voicelessly in his hideout about the insults of this old, grumpy man that called himself wise. Damn, fool know-it-all!

"You know I had no choice, Azem, and you are not in the position to accuse me of anything.

I did the best thing and the only thing I could've done in this situation.

My city had been destroyed, we were vulnerable and a truce and alliance with Persia saved us from a far worse destiny. The Persian Prince might not approve to your standards, but he is trustworthy and as the King Consort it is his natural place and duty to guard the Dagger.

He is now part of our city, this was my decision and I will accept the consequences.".

Dastan spotted Tamina sitting on her throne. She didn't smile, she didn't look like a human at all. This well known divine aura surrounded her when she spoke, an aura that marked her as a true queen, an aura that forbid any counter arguments. However, the councillor, Azem, didn't seem to acknowledge that aura very well.

"Yes, it was your decision that will lead us into another war, a war that is not our own!

Koshkan never challenged us again after we surrendered to him, but now that you fraternised with those Persians, he is determined to erase our city! What does your majesty have to say about that? But I assume you didn't consider this when you thought over marrying that soldier-Prince?".

Tamina's head flung up and even from his distant point of view he could see the anger in her deep brown eyes and he knew that she was not be challenged when she looked like that. Asoka made a step forward at the words of the councillor, but his queen just gave him a simple sign with her hand to remain calm. However, her own eyes didn't speak of the calm patience she demanded of her most trusted guardian, but threw fire and contempt and hatred at the man back right in front of her. Obviously, Azem didn't pay any attention to the looks she shot back at him.

"It is a shame, a shame I dare say, that your majesty chooses her own..._pleasure_ over her peoples' lives...".

"Remember your place, councillor!" she shouted and immediately Azem was silenced. Dastan swallowed hard when he witnessed how _his_ Tamina left her throne and slowly approached that councillor who shook in the force of her regal aura. He didn't even dare to breath out of fear to tease her even more. She only stopped right in front of him, she was so close, their noses only a few inches away and she simply stared at him, letting him shudder under her lethal eyes until he sank down to earth, kneeling in front of her. However, she didn't waste a look at him, but let her eyes wander through the hall, consider each councillor with her eyes' force before she spoke again.

"As I recall correctly, Tamina, daughter of Sarkander, is still queen to the throne of Alamut-

and not Azem."she threw a contemptuous look down to the man kneeling in front of her.

"I am your queen, I _am_ Alamut. I'll remain true to my morals and to my duties and I will not tolerate to hear such speeches. Don't fool yourself by believing I would forget who I am and what I am.

I am your sovereign and if you dare to challenge me" she looked down on the councillor in front of her "then do it with a sword in your hand!".

Again, she let her look wander, but this time Dastan could literally feel how her divine aura shattered at the dawn of defiance right at her feet. He could see it. She was a queen not used to be challenged. Disobedience was a term not quite belonging to her usual vocabulary. However, she didn't give in, she stretched her figure to the fullest once more, she stretched her chin up in the air, before she spoke for the last time.

"The council is over. You are dismissed. All of you." she finished and wasted a last look at the man in front of her, before she turned around and left the hall at a fast pace. This was the moment that Dastan saw his chance coming to grab and challenge her. He waited in his spot, awaiting the perfect moment when she would pass him. He waited, listened for the familiar sounds of her vigour, determined steps, but it were other sounds that his ears caught. There was a strange noise, a muffled down choking and slowly he left his hiding spot, looking out for her.

Dastan found her leaning against a pillar, with her back pointed against him, she hadn't seen him yet. She shivered heavily and gave into her weakness, vomiting her fears and angers onto the ground. Here she thought she was safe, hidden from the sneaky eyes of the other councillors. Hidden from the eyes of the world, just as her shameful weakness. She startled when she felt a warm, calloused hand on her shoulder and swiftly she turned around, only to find the person looking at her she'd hoped the least to see her like that. All her weakness uncovered.

"Tamina..." he started, searching for the right words to comfort her, but she cut him short, just as she always did.

"You're spying on me?", she made a threatening step towards him- not that he was actually afraid of her, but hell knew no wrath like a woman..."Sneaking up on me like a treacherous snake in the desert! Is that all you Persians can do? Is that what you want? Revealing my weaknesses so you can take over my city, take it out of my hands? Is that what this was all about?".

Dastan bit his tongue, not countering her ridiculous reproaches as he would have usually done it. Instead, he just pushed her against the wall, offering her a secure stand and a minute to recover while he looked at her thoroughly. Her face was a stern mask of her inner feelings, her stubborn pride, this reluctant woman be damned.

Her eyes searched for his look and when he finally met her gaze he believed to have seen something like the melting of her armour of anger and pride, but he was once more fooled.

"Look at your queen, peasant. Isn't that what you wanted to see? My weaknesses? That I'm indeed only human, that I'm a weak, fragile woman?" she leaned closer to him to whisper in his ear, "Well, here she is!".

Her last shouted words burned in his ears while she pushed him away from her and walked away from him without wasting any more looks or words at him. Dastan contemptuously shook his head, before he made his way back to the Inner courtyard where he hoped to find his men who could take his anger.


	6. Chapter 6

** 6. The great Giving-in and Giving-up**

At first, he thought he was dreaming, all the shivering beside him, the painful moaning, the sobbing. But then he became more and more awake every second and he recognized that he was actually not imaging himself all these things in the back of his mind. He threw himself around and faced Tamina's back. She was the one who was shivering and sobbing, her moanings were sounds of torment and she tried to suppress her screams while pushing her face into the pillows.

Whatever she was seeing within her dreams, she was confronted with the most dreadful things. For one moment only, Dastan hesitated, but then he felt the protective side in him awakening and he reached out one of his big, strong arms and embraced her softly from behind, hoping the contact may console her subconsciously.

First, she seemed to stiffen, scared by the sudden touch, but then she relaxed in his warming embrace. She breathed deep and slowly, now protected even in her dreams and all the signs of fear and anger vanished from her face and were replaced only by innocence and peace. Dastan sighed heavily, while he observed her beautiful face, but then, something strange happened. Suddenly her formerly still and apparently asleep figure turned around in his arms and pressed herself unconsciously against his body.

He could not say that he was feeling uncomfortable.

"Dastan?", her soft and broken voice tore him out of his thoughts and he lowered his face so he could look into her now half-opened eyes. Her brown eyes were not sharpened as usual, she didn't look angry or challenging, she looked tired, as if she was actually only a woman.

"How long have you been pretending to be asleep, Tamina?" he countered amused and could not but suppress a smile, however to his surprise, she did not respond to his challenge with a feisty answer as usual. She simply pushed herself up to reach his lips.

For one moment of weakness he was surprised and overwhelmed. Her lips on his mouth were soft and warm, welcoming, like a promise, like a swear, an answer to a question only his heart knew.

But then he lifted his head up, out of the reach of her lips, and to her sensation he was out of breath, searching, gasping for air and sense, seeking for the strength to remember why it was better to stop, why he _needed_ to stop. He closed his eyes, seeking for his inner strength to withstand the wild innocence and untouched passion of the probably most desirable woman he had ever met in his whole life.

"Tamina." he simply said, trying desperately to clear his throat and to find the voice to form the words to stop her or himself. Again, he heard her warm voice speaking into his ears and her answer made something shiver deep in the depths of his soul.

"No.", again she leaned forward. However, now she was waiting, millimetres away from his face, feeling each others hot and sharp breath against bare skin. Their looks intertwined in the gloomy shine of moonlight and slowly Dastan felt his resistance slipping away.

Carefully, to not to scare her, he leaned into her and now it was him who placed his lips on her mouth, soft, lightly as if any sign of the passion boiling inside him could make her flee. It was a very sweet kiss, short but sweet and as her lips were about to separate again, Dastan was surprised again, when it was the Princess now who leant forward to steal a kiss from his lips and this kiss was nothing like the others.

Allah, he did not know where she had learned to kiss like that but the way her lips were about to claim his mouth was arousing and alarming alike. He felt his hands going through her hair while the kiss deepened and slowly she was laying beneath him. She breathed heavily into his mouth, gasping for more while his hands wandered downwards on her body, admiring, adoring, tenderly. They paused in their kiss for a moment and as their eyes met in the darkness of this chamber, Dastan's hand found its way between her legs and immediately she was crying out in an unknown, bitter-sweet pain she had never tasted before.

She was constantly moving beneath him, shivering under feelings she did not understand, moaning in joy, gasping in passion while his fingers did his magical work in pleasing her. Dastan knew the passion of women and so he moved on playing with her, forcing her to moan in surrender until she suddenly pushed his hand away and for one second of a moment he was surprised. But then he felt her so apparently weak arms around him, pressing him on her, catching his lips in a wild, mind-racing, mind-blowing kiss which burned his senses.

"So impatient." he murmured smiling under her lips, but she was not smiling any more, in her eyes burnt a strange mixture of feelings, an expression of lust and yet of fear. This look was one reason which wiped the grin off his face. The other reason was her next move, her hands pulled her thin silken grown over her head and by doing so she pushed her burning hot body against his. His lower body contacted her womanhood and his mouth escaped a heavy moaning sound. She knew what she wanted, Dastan was going to understand this now. She was not that innocent, scared, inexperienced maiden, she was Princess, a monarch, a sovereign in every way. She always needed to have control, even in such a situation where there was no control possible.

Dastan obeyed her demand and took off his linen pants. He was searching for her eyes when he lowered himself upon her, slowly to not to scare her while her legs were opening welcoming.

He leaned on his left arm while he was coming to her, her eyes suspiciously focused on him and then her face distorted in pain, her eyes closing immediately while she turned her face away. Dastan knew she was in pain, soft whimpers escaped her lips unintentionally and he was about to withdraw himself, but suddenly her arms pressed him on her, hindered him to let go of her.

For a moment they remained motionless. Dastan listened to her sharp breath which was calming more and more every second until she was breathing normally again, apparently liberated from pain. Eventually he began to move, he tried to be calm and soft with her, but it was hard to move slowly while his own mind was bursting out in passion. However he tried to focus on Tamina, listening to her breath which sharpened with every thrust and relaxed afterwards.

After a few minutes her sounds changed, still her breath was sharpening but he could hear a difference now. Soft moanings escaped her lips and found its way to his ears and even this little sounds of pleasure nearly drove him mad. He could hear her whispering his name and he answered with loving movements while his lips caressed the sweet skin at her cheek, kissing her throat, her face.

At some point she took his face between her hands, pushing the hair out of his face, so she could see his wonderful eyes and to be reassured by the look in his brown eyes which were burning for her.

Dastan could understand why she wanted eye contact. This was new to her, she had never been touched before, and this feeling might scare her now. Besides, she never wanted to lose control and he knew it. He gave himself into her leadership, because she was his wife, his queen and he was already hers to command.

They both reached the most anticipated point of total loss of control almost simultaneously, feeling each others body, the warmth of a primaeval love, sharp screams through a mist of passion and not yet accepted love.

* * *

><p>Still exhausted and out of breath from love, Dastan was still lying on Tamina, but the young Princess did not seem to feel uncomfortable. Her hands pressing him on her, going through his dark hair, playing with it while she sighed heavily before she broke the silence thoughtfully.<p>

"I would have never expected something like _this_.".

Dastan smiled, caused by her subliminal, subconscious compliment and tried to kiss her, but she shook her head to the side and denied him this charming act. She pushed him off her and by doing so forcing herself on him. Now sitting on his belly, Tamina was the one to smile while Dastan's lower body reacted quite impolitely to her new sitting position, while she intertwined her fingers with his, slightly pulling him up to her. And when they were face to face- he could feel her sweet breath against his lower lip- she started speaking again, but now, her voice was trembling by something which he usually would have interpreted as fear.

"Sometimes you frighten me, Dastan.

I have never felt that way before.".

Dastan, alarmed by her low, shivering voice took her face within his big hands, only touching lightly as if she was too precious to be touched by someone like him and forced her to look into his eyes which were full of emotion, some of them she could understand, others frightened her even more.

_She only knew this man for days and yet the warmth of love burnt in this deep, brown eyes..._

"Do never be afraid of me, Tamina.".

And surprisingly for him, it was her who leant into him and pressed her lips softly against his half-opened mouth, lightly just as the touch of a feather, loving and tenderly she moved her lips on his, and both fell back to the bed as the kiss deepened.

* * *

><p>"Some weeks ago, you would have lost your head for looking at me like that, <em>Prince<em> Dastan." she said with a teasing voice and eventually she opened her eyes and smiled boldly at him, her angelic body only covered by thin bed sheets. Dastan gave her a smile in return, of course, the first thing she did after waking up was teasing him. However, Dastan knew that he didn't want it any other way, he loved it, when she was like this, feisty, bold, challenging.

"Will it always be like this?" he said after a while, but apparently he must have said something wrong, because immediately Tamina rose up and twisted the white bed sheets around her body while she positioned herself next to him. The smile on her face was gone, replaced by an expression he knew far too well. She was not Tamina any more, she was the Queen again, the High Priestess, an instrument of the Gods.

"No, Dastan.

In public we are meant to be King and Queen, husband and wife- but not lovers.".

Dastan frowned his forehead by her thoughtful words, his face a mask of his boiling, subliminal anger, so Tamina continued talking to calm his hot tempered mood. He really needed to learn how to disguise his far to obvious feelings.

"I am their princess, Dastan, now their queen.

I am a symbol to them and as a symbol I am treated.

As my husband you have to understand and to accept that-

Can you do that?", Dastan still refused to look at her. He did no like the idea of suppressing his feelings, he had never been used to disguise them, he wanted to be with her like every man would be with the woman he loved. Tamina, feeling uncomfortable by his constant silence began to speak again, while the sun broke slowly through the window, saturating them both into a warm, glowing shine.

"You are Consort King to me.

And I need you to be at my side, because in time, you, my husband, might be the only person, I can truly trust, so I ask you, Dastan: Can I rely on you, my love?".

Finally, Dastan turned his face to the right and watched Tamina sitting besides him, staring to her feet, while intertwining her fragile fingers with his big hand. But she refused to meet his eyes, so he set his fingers softly as a feathery touch under her chin and lifted her face up.

"You can always trust me, Tamina.", the expression in her eyes changed from slight suspicion and insecurity to a expression he'd never known before. It was an honest smile, welcoming, loving. Dastan leaned forward to place a kiss on her lips, but she moved backwards alike, denying him a kiss. Instead he laid his head on her chest, closing his eyes while breathing in one stream of her scent and listening to her slowly fastening heart beat.

Even though she was not stiffening, Dastan knew this position was uncomfortable for her, this nearness was still new to her but at this moment, he did not care. He knew in time she would accustom to this physical closeness between man and woman, he knew she would accustom to the ways of love.

* * *

><p>"We are now fully engaged, Dastan, our marriage is now official, even in the eyes of the Gods.<p>

The Council should be satisfied now.".

Dastan raised his eyebrows when he heard her words. Tamina stood in front of her mirror and combed her long, black hair, preparing herself for another day and for another council's meeting. Apparently she hadn't seen his sceptical look just yet, obviously she didn't seem to find anything strange about the words she just said at all.

"Don't tell me, last night just happened because some old men told you to do so..." he started but Tamina interrupted him with her typical expression of _I'm a Queen, Dastan_ look. The King Consort fought valiantly against the urge to smile, but accepted her reprimand with a played stern grimace.

"Meanwhile, you really should have understood that no man can force _this_ Princess to do any thing.

It was _my_ decision to accept your hand in marriage.

It was _my_ decision to crown you King Consort.

And it was _my_ decision to become your wife truthfully.

The Princess of Alamut gives but she is never taken, Dastan.".

Dastan observed her features who express her pride and her anger, but under his curious brown eyes her stern gaze melts away. They share a quiet moment which was not to be disturbed by any words, they simply looked at each other as if they didn't need to speak to understand each other, as if they shared a connection, much deeper and older than their fresh marital bond of hardly a month.

And then, the moment was gone as Tamina cleared her voice several times and looked quickly away, pretending to continue her preparations for today.

"I'll give you an advise.

Be careful, Dastan, in the next weeks strange _things_ might happen." she finally said after a while, absently as if it was something not worth mentioning. Dastan raised his eyebrows again, trying to get a clue what this woman was talking about again.

"What is that supposed to mean?".

"It means, that you have to be careful.

We might be husband and wife now, but that does not mean the council would not try to do anything..._reckless_.".

"Reckless?" he asked sceptically, his eyes grew larger in suspicion and surprise at her words and she turned around again to offer him a bright and mysterious smile that rendered him simply speechless.

"Accidents are happening quite often, even to a Prince of Persia-

So, be careful.".

At her words his mouth fell open in act of shock and amusing surprise, before he pulled himself together again, remembering himself that shocking him was her favourite game to play. He knew two could play this game and he was certainly a match for her.

"If I didn't know better, I would say you're concerned for me.".

She turned around in one single, elegant movement and faced him with a competitive expression in her dark, beautiful eyes and opened the mouth as if she wanted to say something, but then she reconsidered and closed the mouth, before she started speaking again. Dastan couldn't get rid of the feeling that she actually wanted to say something completely different.

"I'll send an adviser for you, my most trusted and most loyal friend.

His name is Djaq and he will assist you in learning to fit into your role as my King Consort.".

"Seriously, I don't think I need a babysitter." Dastan snorted contemptuously, feeling- again- as if she treated him like someone who couldn't take care of himself. He was the Lion of Persia, bloody hell, he had been able to live 25 years of his life without getting himself killed, he dared to believe he could survive a day in a palace full of servants!

Tamina, however, didn't smile about his little joke, she never did. Strangely enough he couldn't bring her to smile for him, she took everything, really everything all too serious. If last night hadn't happened he would have never believed that she could honestly have fun. But now she looked at him again, as if he'd laughed about the dagger again or insulted her beliefs.

"You are King Consort to the Queen of Alamut.

You have to become the person the title characterizes.".

Her words were final and with a last disparaging look at him she turned around, walking across the room in long, determined steps. It took all her strength not to scold him again.

Was really everything only a joke for him? Could he not even once consider to take this, her city, his responsibilities as the King Consort, her as his queen, serious? After all, this was not a game or some stupid competition he could win with one of his smiles, this was her destiny, it was his destiny. Why couldn't he...

However, Tamina hadn't reached the door of her chamber yet when she was torn out of her thoughts by Dastan who had, unnoticed by her, got up and approached her. He swirled her around and shoved her against the door, harder than she had expected and the bounce forced the air out of her lungs.

His arms came up and he pressed his palms against the door, trapping her in this cage his arms and the door had built around her. She wouldn't escape him. She wouldn't even try. Not any more.

He tried to kiss her, tried to capture her lips and her whole being, but she refused to give into his charm and turned her face away – the council was already waiting for her.

"I wish their would only be Tamina and Dastan again.", she heard him sigh and the words sounded so sad and hopeless that she couldn't but lift her head to look at him. In his eyes she could see this hopeless longing that she knew also burned in his heart. She had known it for a long time, though, now was the first time that she finally admitted to herself.

She felt that he loved her, really loved her.

"That is not possible, Dastan, not during the day, never in public." she whispered lowly but regretted her words immediately, although she knew they had had to be said.

Tamina took his face within her palms and immediately he gave into her tender touch, he closed his eyes and simply enjoyed the rare honour of her seizing for his touch. Her heartbeat quickened in response, she knew what he felt for her, but what did she feel? That she didn't know the answer to that question scared her. She was not used to be uncertain, not used to be unsure.

And what if she did? What if she could really...love him?

Just in the very moment she had allowed herself that thought she rejected it, fear captivated her heart in a heavy grip and the sudden flash of a memory made her stomach twist in pain. She knew how dangerous feelings were, she knew this best of all, she knew that made her weak. Her weakness had once almost killed her, her feelings towards her father that could have cost her her life. No, she couldn't risk to be weak again, she could never risk to fall in love.

Dastan who had felt her startle looked down at her sad face and he sensed that within those few seconds she had made a momentous decision that would determine their relationship forever.


	7. Chapter 7

**7. Here comes the Messenger of Trouble**

Dastan didn't quite like the idea to welcome a well-known enemy of his kingdom in his own home.

Well, of course, Tamina would argue that it was actually _her_ kingdom and _her_ home. Hair-splitting, really, but she always needed to have the final word in any matter and he, Dastan, could do nothing against her stubborn head anyway. So, he just grinned and bore it. Actually, he could be glad to attend the meeting at all, for he knew Tamina would have been more content with having him as wide away as possible from this meeting. However, there were things that not even the Queen of Alamut could forbid. He was her King Consort after all, her highest military adviser. Apart from that, he shared indeed a very interesting trait with her: a stubborn head and an iron will.

Dastan, who stood in the crowd of the councillors, dressed in his usual robes, hardly distinguishable from all the other attendants, looked up to Tamina who sat on the throne, where she belonged. It had been one of his conditions to attend the meeting, he didn't want to be recognised as the King Consort, not yet, at least, and definitely not by the herald. Surprisingly to him, Tamina had agreed to his request without _buts_, partly, he thought, because she was glad not to worry about his poor diplomatic skills or his barely controllable temper. Yet he was confronted with some sort of regret, not to be able to be at her side, to comfort and support her when she faced a messenger from the very man who had killed her whole family and destroyed her home, and her childhood. Of course, Tamina wouldn't have let him help her anyway, she was, after all, a very, _very_ proud woman.

His attention was torn away from Tamina when he heard that the big gates to the Great Hall were pulled open by the servants. Automatically, he turned around and his eyes found the shape of the herald, who walked slowly through the hall, no, not slowly...vainly and arrogantly. Yes, he walked into Alamut's wall as if the city with all its people, as if the queen herself had already surrendered to him and to his master. The messenger reached the throne, but instead of a deep bow just as tradition and respect demanded it, he simply lowered his head a little, never washing that vicious grin off his face. Instantly, the murmuring and mumbling in the hall started, the indignation to his disrespectful manner spread like a avalanche in the hall.

Dastan felt Asoka twitch beside him and he managed to grab the Guardian's arm and to hold him back just in the right moment before he could have stormed towards the herald and to teach him some respect for the higher authorities. The King Consort and the most trusted of all Guardians exchanged a meaningful look and although Asoka shook his hand off, he didn't follow his impulse but obeyed to Dastan's order. This had also been new for Dastan. The fact that Asoka – the man of all Alamutians who liked his new king the least – actually listened to him and followed his rules, whenever it came to Tamina, since for both men, the protection of their queen was their highest duty.

Dastan and Asoka's eyes went back to Tamina, who against all expectations, didn't show her outrage at the messenger's offensive act, but simply nodded formally to greet her guest. She smiled in a warm and welcoming manner, however, Dastan could see how her usually soft, brown eyes grew harder. He knew that look, and _that_ look usually meant trouble.

* * *

><p>"Welcome, herald, to Alamut..." she started, after she'd slightly calmed down after his first <em>faux-pas<em>, however, this suicidal person was apparently determined to crash all good tactics of diplomacy by offending her, either because he really didn't know better or because that visit followed this one, true reason Dastan had already guessed: to insult and humiliate Alamut, and his queen.

Koshkan wanted war, that he was sure of, and he didn't think of any means to ugly to reach his goal.

"Oh, I still know it, though, remember it from the _last_ time...the beauty of this city has barely changed, although, it lacks a true king this time.".

"What do you want, _Sir_?" she snapped suddenly and and the messenger gasped in shock, together with all the others in the hall, when her mask of divine patience cracked only for the merest glimpse of a second. Dastan, though, couldn't wipe the impertinent smile of his face, he silently bowed to her grit to counter this bastard's rude manners.

"I'm prepared to offer you a deal, your Majesty." the herald said, after he'd composed himself again, now with a hell of a lot less arrogance than he'd had before. Tamina didn't speak again, she simply raised her eyebrows, signalising the messenger to continue, who resumed speaking, now, with more self-confidence again. "My lord, the great and merciful king Koshkan, promises to spare Alamut and all its people. All he asks in return is an appropriate but manageable tribute.".

Dastan snorted contemptuously but his unobtrusive appearance hid him well, he was invisible in the crowd and so no one noticed his outrage towards the messenger's words. He looked over to Tamina, expecting her rude decline with an anticipating smile, however his queen's forehead simply frowned as she spoke and shocked him, again.

"And what kind of tribute does your...your _king_ demand us to pay?" unmissable for all attendants in the hall, her voice had echoed with a little sarcastic undertone at the word _king_, but the herald didn't let himself be offended by it. Perhaps, the sort of tribute they demanded was satisfaction enough for him to ignore her mocking.

"You will lay down your weapons, _if_ you have any. You won't need them any longer anyway. _We_ will guarantee your city's protection in future. Besides that, you will pay an appropriate sum...which will _compensate_ the efforts that my lord and his army undertake to protect your city from your enemies. Speaking of enemies, your Majesty, you will certainly understand that this includes also the Empire of Persia with whom you collaborated just recently. As our ally, we must insist that you break off any bonds – and I mean _every_ bond – with that kingdom. Our enemies are thus yours.".

Silence captivated the hall in a mixture of shock, fear and indignation while the herald smiled, quite content with himself, waiting for the answer of the queen. However, Dastan was surprised, though, that Tamina still possessed the ability to shock him, because she definitely didn't react like he'd have expected, like any one in the room would have expected. Tamina, daughter of Sarkander, Queen of Alamut, highest of all Guardians, stared at the messenger for a long moment, before she burst out in a loud and mocking laugh that echoed through the whole hall until it died only seconds after she'd let it slip out.

"Is that it, then? Is that everything?" she asked ironically while the herald stared at her quite shocked, his lips quivering, stammering. Tamina who saw that the man hadn't any more words to counter (thus she had expected, of course), lost her smile and her eyes grew harder again as she spoke again. A threatening cold appeared to cover the room all of the sudden.

"Well, now that you're finished, _Sir_, let me make a few things very clear to you.

I am not prepared to accept any deal your master offers to us. I am not a prisoner, nor has my city been fallen. I don't see a reason to accept conditions which are only appropriate for the just named situations.", Tamina finished her little speech with a hypocritical smile and she already turned to her guards to instruct them to escort the messenger out of the palace, when the herald spoke again.

"Your pride will do you no good, that I can assure you, _Princess_.".

"Watch your mouth, Peasant!" Tamina growled with a rare tone of anger in her voice which cut the man immediately off. However, his shock wore off quickly as he resumed talking. Surprisingly to everyone in the room, the herald pulled out of his robe something that looked like an old, glistening necklace, simply but nonetheless beautifully crafted. When the messenger spoke again a cruel tone accompanied his words. A tone, Dastan knew all too well, for it was the tone of a man who enjoyed the pain of others.

"I am sure, your Majesty will remember this. _This_ is what happens to people who decline my master's merciful offers.", he made a pause to lift his hand with the necklace up in the air and to present it to everyone's eyes, before he turned around again to address Tamina, "Or is it not the necklace your mother has worn in the very night of the raid on Alamut? I can still see her wearing it, while the men dragged her into the temple. I can still hear her, how she struggled against the men, how she screamed. Judging by her screams I reckon not everything in her was against the men's actions.".

Everyone in the hall shivered, at least Dastan felt it like that. A pain twisted in his guts and he felt the strong need to vomit, however, he was rather positive that the pain in his guts didn't come from any bad food. He looked over to Tamina who had gone quiet, very quiet, indeed. Her hands, who lay motionless on the throne's arms, however, gripped deep into the golden metal with her fine nails. Her eyes were focused on the herald as if she wanted to shoot him and judging by her looks she was only a hair's breadth away from doing just that. The messenger, however, either because he hadn't noticed it or because he enjoyed to see her pain, didn't stop his humiliating story, but just continued while his sharp eyes stared at her.

"Oh yes, and I remember you, your Majesty, I remember that little girl who was forced to stand beside and watch the soldiers violate her...man after man after man...", the herald couldn't finish his sentence, maybe he had already finished, when Tamina suddenly jumped up and everyone in the hall gasped, waiting in anticipation for the next shock to come. But the queen just stood there, her eyes gazing coldly at the man in front of her throne, she didn't make any move to arrest or even kill him, at least not now. She was a diplomatic, after all, she knew ending his life, here and now, would only offer her a short and bitter sort of satisfaction. Apart from that, she had to think of her people.

"Bear your mother's fate in mind, your Majesty. Accept my master's offer or join her.".

The herald finished his little speech with a warningly raised index finger he aimed at her. For a long moment, complete silence covered the hall, until –

Tamina finally left her place in front of the throne and walked slowly down to him, the messenger's smile faded as she drew still closer, his feet automatically starting to walk backwards, before they eventually stopped, right in the middle of the hall. The eyes of all Alamut appeared to be fixed upon these two. Tamina slowly leant forward, coming so close she almost touched his nose with hers, and her lips wore a hypocritical, cold smile when she started to whisper her next words with a hard, cruel voice. And although she only whispered, the silence in the rest of the hall let her words echo through the hall as if she'd shouted them.

"Return to your _master_ and tell him, Alamut is _yet_ to be conquered and before that has not happened I shall not surrender myself nor my city nor my people to his conditions. Besides that, tell him, that the enemy of my enemy is my ally and I am _not_ going to break bonds with Persia.", she made a little pause before she spoke the next words which were exclusively reserved for the messenger.

"Mark my words, herald, no matter if war comes over us or not, I shall kill you. Mark. My. Words.

Farewell, then.".

* * *

><p>"Tamina – "<p>

"What?" she cut him off again and Dastan stopped in his tracks. The look she threw back at him was almost as deadly as the one she had given the herald. He swallowed hard, trying to calm himself while he started to run after her again, but is was difficult to catch up with her when she stuck to that murderous pace, heading off to her chambers. The messenger had been escorted out of the palace – alive and all in one piece – only minutes ago and Tamina hadn't wasted any more time, but rushed straight to her bedchamber, always with Dastan running after her. They had hardly reached their room and closed the behind them when he started all over again.

"Why haven't you told me?".

"What should I have told you?" she countered as she flung around to face him again. Dastan ducked inwardly, twitching by the still cold tone of her voice. However, he didn't flinch because of her anger – it had become an old companion to him, by now – but because of the pain that flamed in her eyes. Dastan had heard the words of the herald, just as everyone in the hall had, and the truth was almost unbearable for him. He hardly dared to imagine what it felt like for Tamina.

"T-they raped her. In front of your eyes...I – ".

"You amaze me, Dastan, I thought you were the great _Lion of Persia_. It was war, and war is hell." she hadn't even flinched once while she'd said those words and he was thrown aback by her cold, emotionless tone, as if she really didn't care about what had happened, as if it didn't touch her.

But it _did_, he knew it did touch her, he could see it in her eyes.

"But you have seen it! They...they forced you to watch while they – "

"So what?

I don't need your pity – and isn't that what you were doing too? You Persians, all of you!" she started again, but stopped when she saw that he twitched back from her words, an almost mad shine came into her eyes. She wanted to set her anger free and in her despair the only outlet she found for her rage was always Dastan. She knew how much her words could hurt him and in this moment she was more aware of this fact than she'd ever been before.

"Yes, you're rampaging through the world as if you're the kings in every land, imagining yourself as god-like creatures with your impertinent arrogance! Plundering like common thieves, murderers, burning down innocent cities, raping and torturing..."

"Tamina, I'm really losing my patience here." he cut her off with a cold, yet understanding voice as he grabbed her hand who had just reached out to slap him. She struggled with him, trying to get her wrist out of his iron grip, but it was pointless, he was far stronger than her. Dastan increased the pressure on her wrist and she hissed in pain, although she didn't want him to see it, and he forced her to look into his eyes.

"I've never forced a woman in my whole life – "

"But you would have done it! Don't deny it? In this over time line, you would have done it, wouldn't you?" she screamed at him, desperately trying to get free herself from him, "Or your brothers! Garsiv, this _peasant_, he is nothing but a royal _swine_ who has no respect for other people, greedy like any common soldier...".

"Tamina." Dastan said and threw her a warning look, but she was too far gone already to stop now.

"...and Tus, a king he wants to be? He is not even a real man, a real man does not have to force a woman into marriage, a real man..." she screamed hysterically when he suddenly silenced her, his voice almost cracked and she was shocked by the pain she saw in his eyes, a pain she had caused.

"You mean like me?" he asked and his voice was full of contempt and hurt pride, and full of a pain that had nothing to do with his pride. She had hurt him with her words, with her accusations and her following silence said more than any words she could have used on him any more. Dastan snorted lightly, his lips wearing a false smile and she knew it as he nodded. He understood. He _understood_.

"So, this is what you think of me?" he stated, the tone of his voice a mixture of anger, pain and tears and she swallowed hard, for the pain in his words hurt her, too. Tamina attempted to make a step towards him, but she stopped in her tracks, not quite sure what kept her always away from him.

"You know what? Do what you want!" Dastan said when he turned around again, but she couldn't miss that he avoided to lock eyes with her, before he left her alone and threw himself on the bed.

Tamina stood for a moment on the spot where he'd left her, unable to move or to speak. She was shocked, he had hardly ever lost his temper like that, usually he just countered her insults and complaints with some pathetic arguments and bickering comments. Not this time. She had gone too far, this time, she had really hurt him.

Tamina made a step towards the bed, watching his back she automatically wondered if he was really asleep or if he just pretended to sleep. But it didn't matter, he didn't want to see her or talk to her right now, that she was sure of and instead of going to bed she walked to her mirror on the wall.

She sat down on the stool in front of the mirroring glass and pulled something out of the pleats of her clothes. In the flickering light of the candles, the gold of her mother's necklace shimmered in a threatening colour, almost like a messenger of coming misery. Carefully she put it it around her neck, feeling the heaviness of it – a heaviness that had nothing to do with its actual weight – and she looked up, staring at her own mirage in the glass. Who was this person she saw in that mirror, was it her reflection or her mother's? Was she destined to share more with her mother than simply her looks? Was she damned to share the same fate?


	8. Chapter 8

Before you enjoy this chapter I want to address you very quickly before you do so. As a result of comment I received I felt the urgent need to respond to it carefully.

In this chapter, here at the end, there will be a scene of sexual violence, I want to announce and stress clearly that I do NOT, in any way, support or accept or excuse rape or violence against men/women/children.

What happens between Dastan and Tamina at the end of this chapter is an act of anger and desperation, yet I want to stress again that I do not want to excuse or justify Dastan's actions here.

If I offended someone, I did so unintentionally.

For those of you who do not want to read the last scene, I highlighted it by the following sign:_** (Warning!)**_

So if you see this sign coming up in the middle of the text and you do not wish to read said last scene, then stop there and just go right to the next chapter.

Thank you, and now enjoy, read, and write reviews or comments!

(Thanks and Greets to **Irene T** and **Eleanor of Equitania** for the advice, and thanks for taking the time to address me personally.)

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><p><strong><span>8. The Seeds of distrust<span>**

Tamina sat on her throne, smiling to herself, but it was not an honest smile. It was the smile of a person sick of defending her decisions, sick of explaining every step she took, sick of listening to the advises of men. She looked up to meet the eyes of her councillors, staring at her, their stern looks constantly demanding her to follow their lead. She was tired and weak, and _sick_ of men telling her what to do. She felt like a puppet, her crown only tightening the strings that held her in position, easy to be controlled and pushed into the right direction. The direction those men saw fit.

"And what do you expect of me, councillor?" she finally said, looking at the man closest to her. He stood there in his robes, his beard full of grey wisdom, but the _wisdom_ of old men, and men in general, never appreciated that she as a woman was also capable of thinking, of making decisions, that she also possessed dignity, and pride.

"You expect me to marry every new enemy that knocks at our doors?

I am not some lassie on the streets, I don't sell myself for the highest price.

I don't sell my dignity or the dignity of my city to any stranger that passes by only because he yields a sword and threatens me. " she cracked a false laugh that echoed coldly through the hall, but none of the men responded to her laughing and so her hypocritical smile vanished. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, trying not to be offended by this councillor's advise that she should _part_ with her false _friends_ and start to think of her people again.

_A bond_, he'd said, _a bond with Persia would be the death of Alamut_. _Save us_, he'd demanded, _save your people and part with the Persian, only a bond to Koshkan could save them, only a bond to Koshkan would save Alamut... _

Tamina closed her eyes, breathing heavily through her nostrils, counting to ten. She would have loved to yell at him that she could not _part_ with the _Persian_ any more, that she was no longer free to choose another man...she would have loved to yell at him that she would never bond with Koshkan...or any other man...

But she _didn't_. She was queen, not some pestering, little girl, and losing her temper in front of the council would do her no good, it would only play into their hands, offering them a reason to outvote her, proving that she was indeed not capable of ruling...that she was nothing like her father...that she was only a _woman_...

"Siding with Koshkan won't solve our problems. We would lose our freedom and other conquerors would be tempted to emulate Koshkan. No, I won't condemn my city and my people to that.

We have been threatened before, we shall overcome it. Alamut's walls will protect us.".

Tamina lent back against the backrest of the throne, closing her eyes, taking deep breaths, trying to fight against the headache that used to attack her now and then. It had been a long day, so many arguments, so many old men to fight...would it ever stop? Would she ever be allowed to stop defending constantly that she belonged on that throne, rightfully?

The murmuring in the hall increased, the councillors argued among each other, struggling over her decision and Tamina was just about to put an end to it when suddenly one of the councillors raised up. She remembered him well, he had challenged her once already and his look promised only more troubles to come.

"This city's walls have been penetrated once already, the city infiltrated with enemies, right up to the top, even up into your own bedchamber, Queen!".

"You dare – ".

Tamina had jumped up from her seat, her eyes coldly blazing at the old man standing in front of her throne – his Queen stood in front of him and yet didn't bow. The councillors stared in fascination and fear at the two of them, none of them dared to move, or even to breathe. Everyone waited for her to say something as usually did, silencing the accusations against her with the determination that characterized her as their queen. Yet, she didn't speak. Her head hurt like hell, but she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing her sway or showing any sign of weakness.

She was their queen, she was to be respected.

The old councillor interpreted her silence as his chance to speak and so he went on with his reprimand.

"Do you deny it, your Majesty, that you have become..._addicted_ to him...".

"_Addicted_?" she repeated furiously but with a pressed down voice.

"Would you hesitate if it were any other man you would have to part with? Could be the reason why you stick to him – a Persian _brute_, a possible _spy_! – because you have chosen his...company in bed other your people's security –".

"SILENCE!".

Her scream cut him off immediately and for a long moment none of them moved or breathed. Tamina shook, rage burnt through her veins and her cheeks burnt red with shame of being humiliated like that in front of the whole council. She looked up to the man who had dared to speak to her like that, to her – his Queen, his ruler – and not even now he showed any kind of respect.

"How dare you speak to me like that?

Did you forget who I am?

I am Tamina, daughter of Sarkander, I _am_ your Queen and I shall _not_ be challenged!" she finally managed to speak, though, her voice shook heavily, she was hardly able to control her anger. The councillor nodded slightly and considered her words, before he rose his head to speak again, his face the mask of a loyal subject, but also of a critic who would never accept a woman as his master.

"Then, your Majesty, you are a ruler I can only be ashamed of. You sit here in all your glory, ready to let your subjects get slaughtered, only to keep a _sweet-talking_ Persian soldier, likely planning to overthrow you and to take your father's crown right out of your hands. Your father would have been ashamed of you, ashamed to see the last days of this once glorious house of Alamut!".

The councillor looked up at her, his bottom lip quivering, all his bravery had vanished when he stared up at the figure of his queen, ready – _anxious_ – to meet her judgement. Tamina, however, didn't meet his look, shaking by his accusations, she let her eyes wander through the hall and she could see the doubts reflected in every men's look, that councillor's words echoed in every men's eyes. She _had_ been challenged. The only question was now, was she defeated?

Slowly she raised her head, her heart beating desperately within her chest, trying to kill her own doubts, rotting seeds that had been planted in her mind by the man's accusations. She tried to speak but had to clear her throats several times before she could do so.

"Asoka." was everything she managed to say, but it was all that was needed. Her most trusted Guardian stepped forward without hesitation and walked over to the councillor, to fulfil his mistress' orders. His large hand fell on the old man's shoulders and the councillor only gave him small look, before his eyes settled on Tamina again. Their eyes locked and Tamina gasped in shock when she recognised the understanding in those old eyes, the understanding that he had defied her, insulted her and that he needed to be punished.

It was as if she looked right into the eyes of her father.

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><p>"This is barbaric!<p>

You can not sentence him to lose his tongue only for raising his voice against you!

You are a monarch, not a tyrant!".

Tamina didn't turn around to face him, she only sped up her pace, trying to get rid of him while she headed to her chamber, seeking for a quiet room and moment to calm herself, to think what she had just done, and what was going to happen. However, Dastan just wouldn't leave her alone and he just didn't stop yelling at her since they had left the trial only minutes ago.

Dastan, although she had tried to prevent it, had attended the trial against the councillor who had challenged and insulted her in the meeting this morning – and of course, he didn't understand. And how could he? He hadn't been with her this morning, since their argument they hadn't spent all too many time together at all...

Dastan had tried to speak for the councillor, tried to change her mind and her sentence, he had just made everything get worse than it already was. By questioning her authority he had just backed any accusations of that councillor and he had left her without the opportunity to pardon that old man.

What could she have done? Sparing the councillor after Dastan's words and pleas would have made her look like a mere Persian puppet. It would have cost her the adviser's respect and her authority. Now, after Dastan's interference she had had no other choice but to prove once and for all that she was a ruler, and although a woman, she was not to be challenged.

Tamina felt ashamed, ashamed of herself. All she wanted to do was cry and break down, her head hurt like hell and she believed to have innocent blood on her hands – the blood of that councillor.

She hadn't wanted this, she had never wanted to go this far, she wasn't a despot, she loved her people...and she had planned to pardon that councillor, she would have found a way to spare him, she could have done it...

Tears burnt in her eyes but she couldn't bring herself to cry for herself now, the contempt for herself dug deeper into her soul until it shifted and turned into rage, a rage she directed at the one person she felt responsible for this disaster. Tamina flung around to face Dastan, a hatred flamed in her eyes he had never seen before and for the first time he could remember, he was _afraid_ of her.

"This all your fault!" she screamed, her voice breaking at the end while tears, unknowing to her, streamed down her cheeks in hot, burning lines.

"_My_ fault?", Dastan immediately stopped in his tracks as he echoed her accusation sarcastically.

He stared at her in disbelief, her chest heaving heavily, gazing at him in white anger, before she turned around and stormed to her room, pulling the door open, almost slamming it into Dastan's face, who followed right after her. Behind them the door fell slam shut, sealing them from the rest of the world, locking them up in their anger and blames.

"It was _you_ who sentenced him, Tamina, not me...".

"Yes, but if you hadn't challenged me I could have spared him! If you hadn't questioned me in front of all the eyes _and_ ears of the palace I could have restored _justice_ without even sentencing him!" she yelled back at him, now sobbing and crying as hard as she had never done before in her whole life. It was his fault, he had forced her into this position, he had turned her into this monster she had never wanted to be. It was all his fault, he was to blame.

"That's insane!

This is no justice, it is barbaric!".

"Do not dare to lecture _me_ about justice or barbarianism, _Lion of Persia_." she snapped back, through her tears she managed to crack a cruel, cold laugh that cut right into his heart and he made a few steps back. He swallowed hard when he met her look and the hatred he saw in them made his throat tighten in dread: this felt different than any of their former arguments.

"You think, I don't know what you're doing, what you're eventually aiming at?" she asked with a sweet cold voice while her face wore a contemptuous, hypocritical smile and he could hardly look up to her, instinctively twitching back from this side of her.

"With your one hand you try to seduce and blind me, while you're, with the other hand, trying to take my place on the throne! The council has been right, about everything, right from the beginning!

But you won't get it!".

"Now you've completely lost it, Tamina."Dastan said, his voice failed him at the end, he felt a lump in his throat and tears burnt in his eyes. Her accusations cut into his heart like clean strokes of a knife, aimed to kill, aimed to hurt him, and they did. But she still didn't stop.

"Do you deny it? That you not even once thought of it?".

Dastan couldn't look at her, he had no voice, no power left to fight her back – and she understood his silence the way she wanted it to see. His hesitation was his downfall and he could see it in her eyes. Every of his achievements in the last weeks, gone, vanished, replaced by the mistrust and fear and hatred of their very first days. For the last time he reached out to her, trying to bring her to reason, but he had already lost this battle long before he could have thought of defending himself.

"I am sick of this. I am sick of fighting you, Tamina, I –".

"Then GO!" she screamed, her voice break while tears and sobs blurred her words, but he heard them, though, "Why are you still here? I never wanted you here! I should NEVER have married you!". She fought for every breath now, her eyes focusing on, the brown of her pupils turning black in rage.

"I HATE YOU!".

Her scream echoed in the chamber and both of them swayed for a moment in the force of those words. Dastan gasped as a sharp pain flashed through his heart, he hardly felt the tears streaming down his cheeks as he looked at her in disbelief, hoping she would take the words back. But they knew she couldn't, now, that she had said them, those words stood between them.

Tamina, who could hardly believe herself that she had said those words, shook in the force of it. She turned around in one swift movement, she couldn't look at him when he wore that terrible expression of pain, a pain she had caused. Dastan looked over to her, but she had already turned her back on him, to emphasise her words, words that echoed in his head over and over again. He couldn't take her look any more, looking at her made him feel the truth of her words and he couldn't bear that.

_**(Warning!)**_

_The Queen of Alamut gives, but she is never taken..._

Dastan's heart stopped dead for a beat or two when those other words shot through his mind, words which had sought to show him his place in her world, demonstrating to him that she would always be superior to him and that she would never really belong to him. To his surprise this realisation hadn't the expected effect, instead of more tears and heartache he suddenly felt anger, infinite, raw anger.

Tamina didn't see him coming, she had expected that he would leave immediately, unable to take her words, but here he was. Dastan grabbed her wrist in an usual hard grip and tore her around, forcing her to face him and to look at him, to really _look_ at him. She automatically twitched back from the expression in his eyes, the usual soft brown now darkened to an almost pitch-black tone. She could see the anger in his eyes, her constant rejections. _She was afraid of him._

Then, all of the sudden, he rushed forward and she had no chance left to flee. His mouth descended upon hers, and it was no tender movement. All his rage and anger, all his hurt feelings, his hurt pride melted into this one kiss. Although, this was no real kiss, it was a battle for dominance. It was his way of showing her that she would no longer give, but that she now was to be taken. He would show her that she was no longer superior to him – he was her king after all, was he not?

Tamina tried to free herself out of his grip but she couldn't get away from him, his large arms pressed her against his hard body while he pushed her onto the bed. She tried to fight him, but she was no match for him, her little kicks and punches couldn't stop him.

"Let go off me!" she screamed again but he simply silenced her with another cold, heartless kiss while his hands went under her skirts and pushed the fabric upwards. Her small hands tried to hinder him but he simply pushed them away. He would make her surrender, no matter how.

His hand went between her thighs and watched how the expression in her eyes slowly changed, the anger and reluctance vanished to be replaced by the shameful look of pleasure that broke her pride, that broke her completely. The nails of her fine hands dug deep into his skin, as if she wanted to encourage him even more or to push him away – perhaps it was a mixture of both.

_The Queen of Alamut gives, but she is never taken..._

Dastan growled deep in the back of his throat while those words rampaged through his mind, determined to haunt him, torture him, mock him. His hand left her hot centre to free himself from his trousers, and instantly she started to fight him again, but his mere power overwhelmed her. With his knee he forced her legs apart again, his fingers following to make her surrender completely to him and to show her that the Queen of Alamut could indeed be taken.

The King Consort didn't ask for the permission of the Queen, he pushed into her without fair warning, he didn't gave her time to adjust to him. For the first time, Dastan took what he wanted and not just what she gave him. He had overpowered the queen and he would make her surrender.

However, Tamina still tried to fight him, her little hands punching his head and his back, but he knew the signs of her body and no matter how much she always pretended to fight him, her body always welcomed him eagerly. He increased his movements, feeling how she withered beneath him, voicing her pleasure and her protest, but he didn't listen. He would make her surrender. He was sick of being treated like an idiot by her, sick of her seeing him as her enemy. He would force her to respect him.

Dastan finally took her punching little hands into his' and forced them over head, pressing her more vigorously into the sheets. And then, he could feel it. Her body started to shiver heavily beneath him and although she pressed her lips together, she couldn't keep herself from screaming in agonizing, humiliating pleasure. Dastan joined her, feeling high from the power that rushed through his veins as she broke under him. He had taken the queen, the queen finally yielded to the king.

Completely out of breath and still damp with sweat, Dastan slowly came down from his high and the joy he had just felt moments ago, vanished immediately when he looked down into her eyes. There was a strange expression in those usually soft brown orbs, he could still see the all too familiar anger, but there was also something he had never seen before: shame and humiliation. He swallowed hard when he finally realised what he had just done to her, he instantly opened his mouth to apologise to her but Tamina simply pushed him off of her. Dastan fell on the hard ground, but he didn't pay any attention to the piercing bruises he had received. His eyes watched Tamina as she slowly stood up, her figure a shallow of her usual determination. Carefully she lurched towards the balcony, every of her steps a remembrance of her broken pride and every hiss she made was like a knife which cut painfully into his heart.

_What had he done? What had he done to them?_

When she finally arrived at the balcony she turned around to him only once and there was something in her eyes that made his heart stop dead for a beat or two: Something had broken between them.

"You will never – _ever_ – touch me again, Dastan. Try it, and not even the _Dagger of Time_ will be able to bring you back to life again.".


	9. Chapter 9

** 9. The sudden attack**

Tamina jerked up in her great bed, she had awoken abruptly, not quite sure what had caused her to wake up half in the middle of the night. Her breathing went heavy and the air came only flat, her heart raced within her chest and she didn't know why. Goosebumps suddenly claimed her skin and she didn't know why she felt so nervous. Her palms and fingers tingled as they always did when her instincts as a Guardian used to warn her of something to come.

She didn't dare to look over to the other side of the bed of which she knew she would found it empty.

To know – and to actually see it with her eyes – that he wasn't sleeping here any longer made her feel sick to her stomach, but she was too proud to admit it, even to herself. Instead she just kept telling herself that it was the best for all of them, and for her in particular. But in the night, and in a night like this especially, a part of her yearned for him.

Tamina got up in the moment she had allowed herself to think about him, she shook her head violently to get rid of such stupid thoughts. There was no reason for her to regret anything, she hadn't done anything wrong, at least, that was what she kept telling herself and maybe she might even believe it herself one day. With a sigh she could no longer keep herself from looking away and shamefully her eyes glanced at his side of the bed, if only for a second.

The limp she instantly felt in her throat made her breathing go heavier again and all too soon she felt those silly girl's tears burning in her eyes. The queen of Alamut began to laugh contemptuously, she laughed at herself and the image she presented now: nothing but a broken, weak female. She was used to be the ruler of the holy city of Alamut, and now? One man, only one man had managed it to turn her into that unbalanced, nervous, weak mess that she was now. She couldn't but laugh at this humiliating thought.

Tamina grabbed her cloak from the end of the bed and pulled it on, feeling light shivers as the dark of night slowly gave way to the first pink stripes at the horizon: dawn was coming, and with it a new day alone. She went to the balcony, her eyes automatically turning to the west, staring into the endless desert. However, she knew that behind those dunes, only a few hours away, Dastan slept in a tent in the camp of his brothers and his father. Perhaps he was even awake, too, staring onto the endless sand, and thinking of her, as she thought of him.

Dastan had left Alamut a few days ago, heading to the camp his family had built up in the middle of the desert, he hadn't dared to answer why they couldn't come to the city. Tamina knew, he still felt guilty for what he'd done to her, what he'd done to them. That's why he'd left to meet his family and to ask for help, if Koshkan indeed planned to attack them. He wanted to be prepared and he wanted Alamut to be prepared this time.

She sighed heavily and leaned onto the parapet, she took a deep breath and intended to wait for the sun to raise, but then her attention was caught by something completely else. A shadowy movement behind a dune drew her look away from the coming dawn and she narrowed her eyes to slits in order to focus more on the happenings. She waited and it almost appeared as a whole eternity until the scenery became more visible to her in the dark light. However, when she finally did see what was approaching her city she gasped in shock. What her instincts had tried to tell her for the whole time became now reality.

Koshkan, ruler, conqueror, murderer, was about to attack her city, his men were about to surround them, and there was no way out. They were trapped. Sudden memories flashed through her mind, forcing her to remember this other night where he had come to take Alamut. Shaken with fear she lurched away from the balcony, almost tumbling over her own feet in the process. In her panic she could hardly breathe. She didn't know what to do. Every other enemy she could have dealt with, but he was the devil, born out of her childhood's nightmare. She felt helpless. She was five again, a child that would have to witness the death of everyone she loved. She was alone.

All of the sudden, the door to her chamber was pushed open and Asoka stormed in, already dressed in his armour, the sword in his hand, ready to strike down anyone who would dare to touch her.

"Dastan...we have to get a message to the king!" she stammered, it was the first thing and the only thing that came into her mind. She brought herself to get up and looked around hysterically, not knowing what to do until her upbringing got the better of her.

"The Dagger! We have get it out of the city!" she demanded and was already on her way out of the chamber when Asoka suddenly grabbed her and pulled her back. He swallowed hard, apparently uncomfortable with the situation himself and when she heard his next words she understood why.

"I-I can't do that, your Majesty. I have orders to get _you_ out of the city, safely.".

Tamina stared at him for a moment, trying to process what he had just said, obviously it was difficult for her to believe that Asoka, her most trusted Guardian, declined her order and declined his sacred mission, because he had got an order from..._Dastan_. She blinked several times before she had recovered from her initial confusion. She took a deep breath and forced her way past him to the glass cabinet at the end of the room, she hesitated not even for a moment before she took the sword of her forefathers out of its safe place. When she turned around to him again, a look of determination was in her eyes that he knew all too well.

"I am leaving with the Dagger or I am not leaving at all. So, if you want to stick to your orders then you'll have to force me." she said in a calm but convincing tone, even more when her fingers tightened around the handle of the sword. Asoka stared at her in disbelief but he didn't dare to approach her all too quickly, not sure how far she would go to stick to her promise. He was about to counter something when the sudden tone of a horn could be heard throughout all Alamut and they both stormed to her balcony to see what had happened.

The image of destruction and pure, brutal power forced itself upon her and she twitched back, it was only a matter of time until Koshkan's army would break through their gates and only the Gods knew when Dastan would arrive, it wasn't even sure if he had got the message at all...

Tamina turned around to her most trusted Guardian who looked at her as if he still fought with himself, still thinking about getting her out of the city, even against her will. He knew they didn't have the time to get her to the High Temple to take the Dagger and then to bring her out of the city, not when the fight was about to reach its highest peek.

"We both have our duties, Captain.

You are needed at the defence of my city.

My place is in the High Temple, with the Dagger.", and with these last words she stormed out of the chamber, her thoughts leaving the city's walls as she headed towards the High Temple.

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><p>The queen of Alamut pushed the heavy doors to the High Temple open and still out of breath she walked in, her father's sword always drawn at her side, ready to defend herself if necessary. A sudden sound behind her made her jerk around and she cried out in shock, but felt relief instantly when she didn't find herself face to face with a brute soldier but with a hardly eight-years-old child who looked up to her with large, frightened eyes. Only now she became aware of the other children who slowly left their hiding places behind the majestic pillars of the Temple hall.<p>

"What are you doing here? It's not safe for you to be here!" she exclaimed shocked as she stared at her young Acolytes who gathered around her, seeking to be near her, hoping to be filled in with comfort. But Tamina knew she was in no position to promise anything. Alamut was about to fall and they all were only a hair's breadth away from leaving this world forever, if not worse. Not knowing what to do she approached the altar and took up the Dagger of Time, carefully hiding it within the folds of her night gown, beneath her white cloak.

When she turned around again she looked into the eyes of the young Acolytes and her plan to flee with the Dagger collapsed instantly. She knew she couldn't leave now, she knew she wouldn't do it.

The sudden memory of her mother flashed though her mind and she swallowed hard, trying to keep her panic at bay, trying to maintain her look of being composed and determined.

"Get behind me." she demanded and the children followed her order immediately and took there place behind her, the altar in their backs they all faced the massive doors of the High Temple.

Tamina took a deep breath in order to calm herself but it was no use, her heart raced within her chest as if it knew that it had only a few beats left to do. For a moment she closed her eyes and now – now that she was possibly about to die – there was no reason to keep him out of her thoughts any longer, or to fight against him. She felt a warm wave of comfort when his image rushed through her mind's eye, and it appeared as if he was really here with her. She fed on his image, taking the strength from it that she needed for whatever would come to storm the temple.

The Queen of Alamut raised the sword of her forefathers, ready to face her destiny.

* * *

><p>"I do understand your concerns, Dastan, but you can't expect me to send my whole men to protect your city –".<p>

"Listen, father, if Koshkan attacks Alamut he will burn it down to its grounds." Dastan interrupted the king Sharaman who looked more than taken aback by his youngest son's unusual contradiction to his father's words. Usually, Dastan only ever raised his voice against his brothers. The old Persian king reckoned that his son's new wife might have had a greater influence on him than they all had expected at first.

"Besides that, this could be our chance to finally defeat him, once and for all.".

"Yes, but, Dastan, think about the risks, think about –"

However, they all never learned what king Sharaman was about to say when the suddenly a totally exhausting looking man burst into the tent of the meeting. All eyes went to him, demanding to know what had caused him to intrude into this private circle of royal members. The messenger tried to say something but for another few minutes nothing but coughs escaped his lips, until –

"Alamut has been attacked, my lord...".

Dastan swayed where he stood when the words filled him in, images flashed through his mind, every single one worse than the one before: he saw blood flooding the streets, the screams of innocents, the destruction of hate and above all else he saw Tamina's dead eyes looking up to him.

He shook his head and found his way back into reality, he looked for the eyes of his brothers and of his father: the time for talking was over.

* * *

><p>Dastan arrived earlier at the city than the rest of the Persian army.<p>

Together with his men he had gone ahead, unable to wait any longer, every second could cost another innocent life, every second could cost him her life. The king of Alamut swallowed hard when he gave his horse another kick to urge it on, to speed up, trying everything to distract him from the thought that Tamina could be dead already and the last words that had been spoken between them had been words of hate and blaming. He felt tears burn in his eyes but he wasn't sure if it was the sharp wind that rushed against him or the fears that threatened to drown his heart.

Dastan was only torn out of his thoughts when the holy city of Alamut finally appeared before them and the image that presented itself to them made them all gasp for a moment in shock. The city was burning, red flames of blood twitched high up in the air and threw grotesque, barbaric shadows. Screams could be heard out of the city and it was this sort of scream no human being could ever forget in his whole life, the tone of the shouts and yells went straight through them and set their teeth on edge.

_Tamina!_

Dastan wasn't sure if he'd said her name out loud or if he'd just screamed it within his head, but the panic that instantly claimed his whole thinking made him forget everything else but his wish to get to her. He forgot that he hadn't a whole army, but a mere group of fifty men with him, he ignored that he wasn't even wearing a real armour, but only a simply linen shirt, his trousers and the wild leather boots Tamina loathed so much. With another kick he spurred his mare on, storming towards the city, his sword already drawn and his men followed him.

It didn't take them long until they passed the gates, throwing themselves immediately into battle, fighting as good as they could, holding out until the Persian army would join them. Dastan fought like the lion his family claimed him to be and he could see the surprise in the eyes of the Alamutian soldiers. Obviously, they hadn't really believed him to come or to fight for them. But when he drew swords with them something changed, all the distrust and contempt they felt for him vanished and was replaced by the one goal they all shared: to protect their city.

Alamutians and Persians fought and died side by side, old feuds be buried, as the soldiers of the holy city recognised that the Persians hadn't come as conquerors this time, but as rescuers, as true allies. Dastan, who had been knocked off his horse, tried to get to the palace, but every time he tried to get closer another of Koshkan's men got in his way, challenging him, apparently trying to decorate himself with the honour of having killed a Persian Prince and king of Alamut. However, Dastan never gave any of them the chance to do so. He fought his way through the masses of fighting people, across corpses and slowly dying men on the ground, and yet he didn't make it to reach the palace – he just couldn't get to her.

All his panic and fear of what might have happened to her mixed up with this anger he felt and slowly turned into a rage he had never experienced before. With a deep, inhumane growl he swung his sword, cutting his way through flesh and bone, cutting his way free, trying to numb the pain he felt inside his heart. He believed to be going to suffocate because of all the rage he felt. He couldn't stop any more, he felt as if a part of his humanity was cut away with every life he took and yet he couldn't stop.

"DASTAN!" Bis screamed at him, grabbing his soldiers and ducking just in the right moment before his friend's blade could have separated his head from his neck. Dastan had his sword still raised up in the air, the adrenaline rushing through his head, almost too loud to hear anything his friend said, and finally he let his weapon sink down to the earth.

"They've withdrawn! Koshkan is fleeing like the coward that he is!" Bis exclaimed excited and pointed with his index finger to a few shadowy figures who rushed to leave the city in a pace most unsuitable for a soldier and for someone like Koshkan all the more. Slowly, Dastan realised that his brothers and his father, plus the greatest part of the Persian army had joined them and together with the Alamutians they had chased away their enemies. However, he knew all too well that Koshkan wouldn't take such a humiliating defeat without seeking for revenge: he would come back.

However, now that the immediate danger was over, there was only one question alone that rampaged through his mind: where was Tamina?

* * *

><p>Dastan looked around, his head rushed from one side to another while his eyes tried to dart though the masses of people: soldiers, Alamutians and Persians, women and children who ran through the streets, calling for each other, trying to find out what had happened to their beloved ones and friends. From time to time he saw how a crying and laughing mother sank to the ground while she pulled her children into her arms, whose she'd just happened to re-find.<p>

However, he himself wasn't able to find the person he yearned most to see.

Bis and his men – even the Alamutians and their soldiers – came running to him, congratulating him, thanking him, but he barely paid attention. He tried to fight himself through the masses of people, always hoping to see her face popping up out of the crowd, but he just didn't find her. Fear slowly crawled up his neck, making him shiver in feelings all too new for him. His heart beat hard within his chest and images flashed through his mind, images that told him he would never find her, that no living thing could ever reach her again.

The thought that she could be dead made him gasp in an unknown pain and in his panic he started grabbing people who were just randomly passing by and demanded of them to tell him where Tamina was. But no one could answer his questions and every silence, every shaking head only increased this cold feeling in his guts, this little voice that told him that it might be too late. However, Dastan shook those thoughts off, stubbornly continuing with his mission. He wouldn't dare to think of that option, not until he'd hold her dead body in his own arms.

"Tamina! Where is she?" he screamed, grabbing an old and odd looking man at his collar and it took him some time before he realised that it was one of Tamina's councillors. He looked dirty and exhausted, blood was on his robes and the tone of his king's voice made him twitch back in fear

"My king! Thank the Gods you came here in time! You saved all of us!" the councillor started all over again, either because he hadn't heard his question or because he simply refused to answer it. Dastan didn't want to think of the reason why the old man could deny him the answer to his question.

"Where is Tamina? Where is the Queen?" he shouted again but in the very moment the councillor opened his mouth to counter something, the attention of the old man was drawn to something behind Dastan. Now, he became aware of how quiet in had become in a mere amount of a few seconds and he swallowed hard as he released the councillor out of his hands' grip. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever he was about to see and then he turned around.

* * *

><p>There, slowly walking out of ruins and smoke, passing joyous and crying people, there was Tamina.<p>

The immediate joy he felt when he finally saw her with his own eyes overpowered him and to the surprise of the people standing around him he started laughing out of pure bliss, too much to gave words for it. It took all his strength alone not to run to her instantly, to pick her up into his arms and to finally let him realise that she was indeed still alive and unhurt and safe.

It was only then that he captured the whole pictures with his sharp, brown eyes.

Tamina was all covered in dust and blood and sweat had dirtied her once clean, white night gown, her usually wonderful black hair was all a mess and she swayed a little while she walked towards him. The sword of her father was still in her right hand – and he could see the Dagger being hidden within the folds of her clothes – and her Acolytes, also marked by the fight, walked beside her, and the younger children in particular grasped the ends of her clothes, desperately trying to hold onto her. Dastan didn't doubt for a second that she had stayed to protect the children. She would have never left the city knowing that Koshkan could have burnt down the High Temple, together with its Acolytes, once again, just as he had done it all those years ago.

Dastan made a few steps towards her but Tamina didn't look at him, her eyes stared to a point only she could see and the concerns started to blossom in his heart again. Careful not to frighten her, he approached her, his fingers slowly touching her wrist – and for a moment the thought came into his mind whether she could possibly attack him in her shock. But then she finally let the sword fall to the ground – its work had been done, its purpose fulfilled, Alamut was safe again – and with a gasp of shock she was torn out of her numb state. She looked as if she was about to cry, though she denied herself this weakness.

Instead she gave him a meaningful look before she attempt to walk away towards the palace and the promise of a bed and food and sleep. However, she didn't came far when her legs and then her whole body began to shake, but Dastan managed it to catch her before she could have fallen. Now, he wasted no more time, but simply picked her up, her arms automatically coming around his neck as she pressed her face against his chest. He ignored the looks his brothers and his father threw over to him, he didn't pay attention to the shocked and surprised glances of the Alamutians as well. All he cared for now was Tamina.

She felt almost too light in his arms, her small, fragile body resembling the one of a bird whose wings had been broken and she shivered within his arms, like the last leave on an already dying tree. He entered the palace when he recognised a familiar face out of the corners of his eyes and within seconds Asoka, who had followed them, caught up to him. Dastan, however didn't gave him any time so say something, he just started snapping at him.

"Why was she still in the middle of the fight? You were supposed to protect her, bring her out of the city? "he growled and pressed Tamina even harder against him when she mumbled something inaudible to him.

"I tried, I tried to persuade her, but she didn't let me. What else could I have done?".

Dastan, to Asoka's surprise, started laughing in a way he had never done before. It was a cold, contemptuous, fake laugh that set the Guardian's teeth on edge. But all too soon his angry, hard laughing grin vanished when he approached their chambers.

"She is a woman – even if she happens to be a queen, too – you could have pulled her out of the city, by force, if necessary, tied up."

With his last words, Dastan kicked the heavy doors open and he walked into their chambers, heading straight for the bed. Slowly, carefully he laid her on the bed, looking for a second into her deep, mysterious, brown eyes, before Asoka, still stammering apologies, disrupted that moment between them.

"I tried everything I could –"

Faster than a lightning strike in the darkest night Dastan stormed out of the chambers. Asoka didn't see him coming, the Persian grabbed him by his collar and pushed him against the wall, the force of his fists' grip on his clothes lifted the Guardian a few inches up into the air.

"Is that supposed to be an excuse?" Dastan asked, his voice shaking, almost unintelligible, his eyes darkened to a pitch black colour of rage

"Really, I tried everything..." Asoka said helplessly, desperately trying to defend himself, obviously scared by the look of murderous anger in his king's eyes. But Dastan didn't move to punish him, instead he released him, but before he freed him he came closer to him once more to put more emphasis on his last words, and he stressed every one of them singly.

"You didn't try hard enough!".


	10. Chapter 10

After so much trouble and heartbreaking, we all deserve a little love!

I dedicate this chapter to all of you who followed the story so loyally: **LauraK**, **eleanor of aquitania**, **Juisa**, **shiningstar07**, **Peacockgirl**, **Just A reader**, **avrilk**, **Chunk Li**, **Dastmina4ever**...**YOU GUYS ROCK!**

Have fun and there are more chapters to come, btw...

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><p><strong><span>10. The Final Reunion<span>**

Dastan closed the door behind him, before he turned around to Tamina who had sat up in the bed, now sitting weak on the bed's edge, looking down to her feet so he couldn't see her eyes. He approached her slowly and when she didn't twitch back from him he knelt down in front of her, but she avoided his glance. However, not because of him, but because of what had happened today and what almost could have happened. Her thoughts were still uneasy, he could see it by the way her eyes went back and forth, from one side to another.

Dastan, not knowing what to say to calm her down, looked down on her hands and for the first time he noticed the bruises and scratches on them. He threw a concerned look up to her, but again she didn't meet his glance. He got up and walked over to the table, after providing himself with a can of water and a few sheets of fabric he returned to his place. He knelt in front of her, dipping the sheets of silken fabric into the water before he started to clean her hands off the dirt and the dried, old blood. They both twitched when he went over a bruised spot on her right hand, Tamina hissed in pain and he flinched because of her sound of pain.

"Sorry." he whispered without looking up and continued more carefully now, surprising her with the tenderness he treated her scratches, for she had thought him nothing but a soldier. Dastan felt her look on him, she watched him while he washed her hands, but he didn't stop. When he stroked again over a sore spot, he shook his head in disapproval.

"Really, Tamina, I wish you would have listened to someone else than yourself, just for once in your life." he stated and Tamina didn't need to ask what he meant. However, she didn't counter him with her usual stubbornness, and she was shocked how weak and thin her voice sounded.

"I couldn't leave. I took the Dagger and stayed with the Acolytes in the temple, to protect them..." she answered and even Dastan didn't miss the hoarse tone of her voice, his hands stopped in their movements and she knew he was listening and waiting for her to continue. But she didn't.

Meanwhile, Dastan had started to wash her arms now and she couldn't have brought herself to say something if her life had depended on it. She shivered heavily and he must have sensed it, since his hands instantly stopped in their movements and he looked up to her, straight into her eyes. She felt embarrassingly exposed to his eyes and yet she couldn't look away, she simply couldn't.

This time, neither of them dared to look away, their eyes stayed locked as if an invisible force kept them in their place, and neither of them dared to break the silence of that moment as well. They simply stared at each other as the minutes passed them, looking into each other's eyes as if they hoped to find something in them. It wasn't clear who made the first step but somehow, magically, they leant forward, slowly, and their lips met light as feathers touching the ground. He kissed her carefully, sweetly and they had hardly ever shared a kiss like that, so full of tenderness, of deep emotion, so full of a sweet feeling that he wanted to cry in joy.

However, when he felt how she grasped his shirt within her little fists, trying to pull him closer to her, to pull them both onto the bed, he stiffened in her grip. Tamina broke up the kiss to look into his eyes and to understand why he'd stopped, but he avoided her glance, his chest heaving, caused by the kiss they'd shared. A few moments passed them in silence before he finally spoke again, his voice shaking with barely contained emotion, but still he couldn't look up into her eyes.

"You said, you never wanted me to touch you again..." he whispered with a low, hoarse voice, closing his eyes in order to calm himself down and his heart that bounced heavily in his chest. His body yearned for her, but he didn't dare to touch her, not without her permission to do so. So he waited, waiting for her to say something, to push him away, now that his words had probably cleared her mind and she remembered what he'd done to them. But she didn't push him away, instead her hands came up and took his face within her hands to make him look into her eyes.

She smiled at him, though it was a sad smile.

"I've lied, Dastan..." she whispered in a soft, tender voice, "I told you so many lies...".

Her words echoed in his head while he still looked into her deep, brown eyes and when he finally read the permission he'd needed, he slowly leant forward and placed a soft kiss on her lips. This kiss resembled the one they had shared only minutes ago and yet it felt different, maybe because he now knew that he wasn't doing something she didn't want. No, she wanted this, she wanted him, needed him as much as he needed her. Tamina clung to him, her hands wandering through his hair while their kiss deepened, her lips opened up to him like a freshly blossomed rose under his heated mouth. Air came short and flat between their kisses but they didn't care, they breathed into each other's mouths, feeling the heat and softness of the other one.

Dastan's arms came around her, his left arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him while his right hand settled on her thigh, still covered by her night gown. He assumed that she would shake his hand off, even now still fearing that she would reject him. But she didn't push him away. Her one hand came down and pulled the hem of her night gown up, exposing her thighs to him before she took his hand and placed it on her skin. Dastan broke up the kiss, looking up to her in surprise, but she simply lent forward and reclaimed his mouth with a not so soft kiss. He was hesitant at the beginning, but her skin was hot and soft under his touch and his fingers slowly travelled up her thigh and every new millimetre he claimed made her shiver heavily.

It was an astonishing feeling to be able to experience her reacting like that to him again, though, it was a wonder that they both were still alive, that he was still able to hold her in his arms. A sudden memory of old fear flashed through his mind and she must have sensed the change in him, for her hands, which were in his neck, slowly pulled him closer to her, finally pulling him with her onto the bed. He had followed her demand without protest, his lips growing more passionate on her opened up mouth as she pulled him on top of her, letting him sink between her legs to be even closer to her.

Yet, it was still not even enough. The fabric of their clothes rubbed against each other, creating a new heat, increasing an old need.

It was her who broke up the kiss this time and slowly she moved to get up. Dastan who had sensed what she wanted rolled off of her, though he looked confused for a moment: had she possibly changed her mind? But she wouldn't reject him, no more. She moved her hands to the hem of her night gown before she pulled the dress over her head, then throwing it away, not even caring to look where it fell on the floor. Dastan stared at her, for a moment his look remained fixed on her face before he lowered his eyes, slowly taking her all in, remembering everything, every curve of her body, every soft, sensitive spot. She could see how his Adam's apple jumped when he swallowed hard and then he locked eyes with her again. There were no words in her language that could have described the way he looked at her, as if she was some kind of goddess for him, sacred to him, and his eyes worshipped her.

However, his looks didn't make her feel uncomfortable as they usually did when he stared at her for so long. On the contrary, her cheeks started to burn, not in shame, but in a completely different fire.

Slowly she leant forward, grasping the hem of his shirt with her hands, and pulled it over his head after he'd raised his arms in order to help her. The shirt vanished into nowhere and she already wanted to kiss him again, when he suddenly, to her surprise, jumped off the bed. She wasn't sure what he was up to again, but when his hands went to his trousers she understood.

Tamina didn't look away when he pulled down his trousers, she simply let herself fall down into the sheets, her eyes never leaving him while she stretched out her arms to welcome him. And the king always followed the wish of his queen. Dastan climbed onto the bed again, leading her one hand to his lips to kiss it before he placed himself on top of her. However, the hand he had just kissed suddenly caressed his face and he looked into her eyes, so full of an emotion he barely dared to read. Her brown eyes looked up to him and he shivered in the power of her glance, it was as if she looked at him for the very first time, her eyes trying to mesmerise every curve and every fold of his face. It felt as if her eyes saw him for the first time, really seeing him. She leant forward, but instead of kissing him she simply pressed her forehead against his' and both closed their eyes. Dastan drowned in the feeling of her, the feeling of her soft skin, the beating of her heart, it was overpowering, intoxicating. _She_ was intoxicating.

After a few moments he believed to feel tears on his face and when he leant back a bit he came to know that she indeed cried. At first he tried to wipe away her tears, but when she didn't stop he simply pressed his lips on her mouth again and immediately her arms came around him, keeping him close to her while they lost each other between kisses and touches. After a while, Dastan didn't even bother trying to wipe her tears away, anyway, for he knew not all tears were of bad nature.

His hand started to explore her body again, his fingers travelling along the curves of her flesh, leaving her face to admire her breasts which rose and lowered in hectic movements, responding to his touch. She withered beneath him, her lips shaking under his mouth as his hands still continued to move on and on, still heading south. His quick fingers passed her waist and her breath hitched when his hand sank even slower. It amazed her, fascinated her that these hands, usually ready to draw a sword, fighting with the sheer power of a lion, could yet be so soft and tender with her. She moaned lowly into his mouth, shivering within his arms as he touched her just as light as a feather between her thighs, his fingers penetrating into the hot, sensitive centre.

Tamina broke up the kiss, she needed to breathe, but everything she managed was to gasp for air, mixed up with moans and low sighs that escaped her mouth while she closed her eyes. She knew he was looking at her while he touched her in that mysterious way, but for the first time she couldn't bring herself to care about it. The only thing she felt way joy, and pleasure, endless pleasure, and there was no place for shame or shyness. And so she slowly opened her eyes to look up at him and she could see the surprise written all over his face when suddenly her hand came up and lay itself on his heaving chest. She was hesitant at first, but not because she felt uncomfortable and she soon lost her shyness. Her fingers headed south, on and on until they disappeared between them to not come up again.

Dastan growled deep in his throat when she touched him for the first time and his eyes fell shut.

She had never touched him before, not like that, never, and so the sensation of her fingers on his sensitive skin was overwhelmingly powerful. Her hand on him was soft and strong at the same time, going back and forth in slow movements that made his breath quicken in response. He couldn't but voice his pleasure, a pleasure she brought him. Then, he suddenly felt her move under him, her legs trying to wrap themselves around his waist, and when she had succeeded he finally sank into her. For a moment none of them could breathe, the sensation that rushed through them was too overwhelming and they clung to each other, simply overpowered.

She sought for his lips and as he lowered his mouth to kiss her, he moved for the first time. Both their moans were swallowed down by their kiss and her arms came around him to keep him in place, to press him against her, her fingers digging deep into his hair. He moved in slow and deep pushes, drowning in the feeling of her hot tightness that gripped him so hard he could barely breathe. He placed his arms on beside her head, on each side, offering him a better angle and her breathing faltered immediately. Dastan raised his head a little to look into her face; her eyes were closed, her head buried deep into the sheets as she struggled for breath.

Th picture of her pleasure made a heavy shiver run down his spine and gave him an involuntary hard push that made them both gasp in shock and lust. Her eyes sprang open and those deep brown, almost pitch-black, stones stared at him in an expression he had never seen before in her eyes. He couldn't look away, fascinated, paralysed by what he saw written all over her face and it was her who reached for his mouth again. Now, there was no reservation in the way she kissed him any longer, no shyness, no suspicion, only the sweet taste of joy, the fire of pleasure, a fire that steadily burnt within their bodies to grow on and on with every move.

His arms left their place beside her hand snuggled themselves beneath her body, pulling her even closer to him as he moved to push deeper into her while she twitched and sighed and moaned.

And then, suddenly, too fast for her to realise, he rolled them both around so that she found herself on top of him. For a moment they remained still, their eyes locking in the dark as they struggled to catch their breaths while his hands placed themselves on her hips. Dastan appeared to search for something in her face and when he'd found it he slowly started to push up into her.

Tamina gasped in joy, her hands immediately looking for something to hold onto and she put them on his heavily raising and falling chest. She had never believed husband and wife could do this like that, no one had ever told her that it was also possible in such a position. It felt different, not in a bad way, though, just different. It gave her much more power over him. She looked down on him, his face distorted in painful pleasure while he groaned deep in his throat as his hands guided her up and down. Yes, she felt the power she had over him but for the first time she didn't really care about it. As she looked down on him, she could see the pleasure she gave him and she felt that she enjoyed it. The thought that she was able to give him pleasure, that she was the _one_ who gave him pleasure was..._it was arousing_...

Another hard push stopped her thoughts in its tracks and she closed her eyes as her head fell back.

It was almost too much and for a moment she could do nothing but sigh before she lowered her head again, only to see that Dastan had opened his eyes and looked at her. There burnt a deep, black fire in his eyes that reached out to singe her, to consume her. She couldn't look away. The way his eyes looked at her was like nothing she had ever experienced between a man and a woman before.

It scared her, it fascinated her – she felt captivated and didn't mind it the least. Her fingers left his chest and wandered to his hands on her hips, she grasped them and slowly pulled him up to her, him following her lead without hesitation.

She kissed him hard and hungry when he sat completely upright, with her sitting in his lap. His arms came around her and pressed her against him when he started to move again, his hips slowly pushing up and she couldn't maintain the kiss for long now. She broke away from him, gasping for air, moaning hard as he started a faster pace. Her head fell back again and the only thing that kept her from falling down were his arms that pressed her against him. She could feel his lips on her throat and her skin felt burnt where he kissed her and his tongue licked her and where he did things with his mouth she never even dreamed of. Tamina twitched in his arms when she felt the familiar hotness between her thighs, this tightening feeling in her lower body, _Gods_, she was so close...

Apparently, Dastan must have sensed the change in her or maybe he was just simply feeling the same, because, again, he rolled them both around, burying her beneath him, knocking the breaths out of their lungs as they moaned deep in their throats simultaneously. He breathed almost hysterically and she felt him shiver within her arms, one look into his face, his eyes squeezed shut, told her what she needed to know. He always tried to hold back, always tried to make sure that she enjoyed it, he always took care of her pleasure.

Tamina lifted her head, slowly pressing her lips against his eye lids and she felt him calm down instantly under her tender touch. He sighed heavily and when she leant back again she saw a soft smile on his lips before he lowered his head to kiss her again. Within that movement he started to push his hips into her again and she moaned and breathed into his mouth, her hands in his neck, their legs intertwining, marking their reunion. His pace grew faster now, harder as he felt that they both were so close that they could almost touch it, so close that the tension in their bodies almost bordered on pain, too sweet, too overwhelming to bear it. And she met him in his movements, their bodies now moving in complete unison.

Their climaxes hit them like a thunderstorm, a sudden flash of light, a heat burnt through their bodies, like a lightning strike that blinded and deafened them. They could only see pleasure. They could only hear pleasure. They could only feel pleasure. She screamed beneath him in a voice he had never heard before as her nails dug deep into his back. She felt like she was dying. He breathed and growled helplessly, occasionally joining her screams as he yelled her name into the night. It was too much for one being alone to take but as they clung to each other they became one, sharing each other's pleasure, with no more barriers between them any longer.

Gasping for air they slowly came down from their high, covered in sweat and still shivering in the aftermaths of their lovemaking they smiled at each other, before he rolled off her, falling down onto his side of their bed. He expected Tamina to turn around and go to sleep, but to his surprise she sought for his arms, seeking to be close to him. He was a bit shocked, though, she had never done that before, but he welcomed her nonetheless. She lay her head on his slowly rising and falling chest and his arms came around her, tenderly, unconsciously caressing her back. Dastan listened to her breathing until it calmed down and grew deep and regular, telling him that she had fallen asleep and after that it didn't take long before he joined her and fell asleep, too.


	11. Chapter 11

Sorry, that it took me so long, but my grannie died last week and well, I wasn't feeling so well and I didn't want to butcher the story with my negative feelings.

So, I hope you're not cross with me, hopefully the chapter will ease your pain of the long waiting. Enjoy and comment! Alaways love to hear what you have to say!

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><p><strong><span>11. Confessions<span>**

"What do you think?".

Dastan looked over to Tamina who lay right next to him in their great bed but she didn't meet his eyes. She looked straight ahead, staring into nowhere, knitting her eyebrows. She looked thoughtful and concerned, but that wasn't something new. What was new, however, was her question. She had never – _ever_ – asked him about his opinion before, and especially not when it came to the ruling of her city. Usually she hadn't cared about what he thought, she was the Queen of Alamut, she made the decisions and he had only ever come to know of her decisions after she'd already made them.

But now, now she was asking for his advise. Dastan swallowed hard, something had shifted between them. After Koshkan's attack and the reunion something had changed between them. He couldn't really name it, but he felt it, he could sense that something was there.

"Well?" she asked and he was torn out of his thoughts, her words had caught him off guard and he sought for an acceptable answer. He finally met her brown eyes which looked at him in a mixture of control and impatience. However, her voice hadn't sounded impatient, it had been calm, soft even and Dastan knew that she tried, she really tried to change. In the last days she had moved away from her usual rough, distant attitude towards him. She had tried to cover – no, to replace – the distrust that had always burnt in her eyes. She tried to change her opinion about him. She tried to open up to him and he knew how difficult that was for her. But she tried hard and every time she succeeded and opened up a little bit more his eyes softened.

"You know what I think of it.

An immediate attack might be the only way to finish him. We can't let him have the time to recover.".

"Don't you think this city wouldn't need some time to recover first?" she snapped back at him and he was silenced immediately. They locked eyes and he could see that she had wanted to say more, he could literally see the flame of her temper burning in her eyes, but she didn't give in. Surprised as he was he couldn't counter her and Tamina, sensing his speechlessness, continued, now with a calmer voice, more controlled.

"We can't attack Koshkan, Dastan, we _can't_." she said in a low voice, her brown eyes searching for his look, hoping that he would understand, hoping that he would give in, "We don't have enough men, Alamut has never been a fighting power, we are not in the position to fight him. At least not now and not like this."

Dastan knew that she tried hard to stay calm but he couldn't fight his temper as a soldier. He knew that Koshkan was a threat they mustn't underestimate, otherwise the consequences could be fatal. The thought of losing her – for good the next time – let his next words appear sharper as he had intended to.

"Well, when will be the most appropriate moment according to Her Royal Majesty? After he has attacked us again? What are you going to do, Tamina? If you're not going to attack him, what else do you plan to do? Talk him to death?".

She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes narrowing suspiciously, scanning his face as if she looked for something he wasn't even aware of, something that seemed to be written all over his face. He could literally feel how she moved away from him, the old, all to well known distrust flashing through her look.

"Why are you so eager to attack him, although you know we don't have the resources to do so?".

"Are you serious? You still don't trust me?" he exclaimed flabbergasted, though he couldn't really be surprised. Tamina was not quite so tactful when it came to social skills, she had never been good at differentiating between a serious advise and a suspicious plotting against her. Dastan stared at her in disbelief and he could see how the look in her eyes changed. She sensed that she misjudged him again. Disappointed and exhausted she sighed heavily and sat up, she let her head fall in her hands, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down again.

Sometimes she had the feeling that arguing was something they would never really get past.

After a few moments she lifted her head again, she could feel his look on her and turned her face towards him again. In her head she searched for the right words to apologise, but apologising was also one of those things she had never really been good at.

"I've got a thing about trusting other people.".

"Yes, I got that by now.".

Tamina sighed again, the impulse to snap back at him flashed through her mind but she ignored it.

Instead she jumped out of the bed, grabbing her cloak and pulled it over her night gown. She hated it when he played her own problems down like that. Why couldn't he understand how hard this was for her? Trusting someone else than her own person was like the most scariest she had ever come across in her whole life – and he stood there and expected her to just bite the bullet and to get over it. Tamina turned around to him, he had followed her and left the bed, however he hadn't seen any reason to put some more clothes on. Proud and self-confident he stood there in his linen trousers and nothing else. She felt the burning of her cheeks and had to force herself to just focus on his face in order not to give in.

"You do realise that this is not easy for me?".

"You expect me to say that this is easy for me?".

Tamina rolled her eyes over his answer and was about to turn away but he wasn't yet ready to let go of this matter and so his hand rushed forward and grabbed her wrist. He pulled her around to him again, not forcefully, he didn't need any force any more to bring her to do what he wanted. His hand placed itself under her chin and thus made her lift her head so he could look into her eyes.

"I am here to help you, Tamina, but I can't do that if you won't let me.

So what is this all about? This mistrust?".

She met stared back into his eyes, looking into those brown stones and he knew she was searching for any signs that would confirm her suspicion. But apparently she didn't found anything and she sighed heavily, her eyes darting away from him. She felt ashamed that she had doubted him again, but she wasn't quite ready to let him know that.

"The council suggested..._I _thought...that you might try to get on the throne and –" she said with a low, almost shy voice and stopped immediately when she saw how he raised his left eyebrow in his typical questioning manner. She knew herself that he didn't care about the throne, but she couldn't fight her distrust – she had unlearned to trust someone else but her. She hardly even dared to breathe, fearing how he would explode over her suspicion. However, surprisingly to her Dastan didn't get angry with her – he just looked at her and smiled, and it was a warm, honest smile.

"What am I going to do with you, Princess?" he said softly and the smile he still wore kept her from remembering him at her official title, "I am not after your throne, Tamina. I am a soldier. I don't have the slightest clue how to rule over people and I'm rather trying my luck with Koshkan and his whole bloody army all on my own before I would ever consider to play king, even if just for a day.

Apart from that I have way too much fun as your sidekick".

Dastan grinned over his own joke, imagining himself as the funniest man alive, but apparently his wife wasn't of the same opinion. Tamina stared at him, not even the faintest idea of a smile cornered her lips and she shook her head in disapproval over his words.

"Is everything just a bloody joke for you?".

"And do you always have to take everything so serious?" he said half-laughing, half pleading, begging her to show him at least a tiny smile, but his question worked not exactly as planned.

"Oh, forgive me for being careful! _I_ don't have the pleasure of doing whatever _I _want! _I_ don't have the opportunity to run off with a bloody sword and just chop someone's head off! _I_ have a city to take care of, _I _have my people to think of and in case you haven't noticed the Dagger of Time isn't exactly the most uninteresting artefact in the world!".

Tamina said all that in one row without taking a breath just once and now she breathed heavily, her chest raising and falling in a fast pace while her eyes shot a warning glare back at him – she was only minutes away from exploding. Dastan turned away, cursing under his breath, his own temper threatening to get the better of him.

"Why do you always do that?" he suddenly spat out when he turned around again, finally losing his temper, but Tamina – used to constantly argue with him – didn't pay any attention to the angry look in his eyes. She started fighting again, her voice carrying the softness of venom.

"Doing what exactly?".

"Using your people, your bloody city, your bleeding knife as an excuse for doing nothing!

Because without them you would have to make a decision!" he yelled back at her but his outburst did not mange it to scare her off. He didn't have to look at her to know that her brown eyes hardened to golden stones, prepared to shot deadly looks back at him. When she resumed talking, her lips wore a false, proud smile that sought to deride him.

"Oh, and what decision might that be?".

"The decision, for example, to admit that you love me!".

His growled words echoed through the chamber and remained in the like a thin whisper between them. Tamina twitched back from his words, instantly silenced her look fell to the ground. She felt as though he had slapped her, his words had sent an electric shock through her body and it hadn't felt good the least. She struggled for breath, feeling the awkward silence between them as a burden to heavy to be carried alone. She could feel his eyes lingering on her as if he waited for her to say something, as if he waited for her to say _the_ words. But she couldn't, she _couldn't_.

"I never said that I love you." she said with a low, almost shy voice, and she hardly dared to lift her head. However, she didn't have to look into his eyes to know how the disappointment was now written all over his face. He couldn't hide it from her, he had never been good at disguising his feelings. Apart from that he didn't care about covering his disappointment. He wanted her to see it, feel it. Tamina swallowed hard when she finally looked up to him, afraid what she would see in his eyes and the look that was directed at her stopped her heart dead for a beat or two. She could never have imagined such a look in a man's eyes; love and yearning, disappointment and rejection, all those feeling melted down into that one look.

"No, you didn't." he said at last and with those words he turned around and left the Queen of Alamut alone in the silence of her chambers, with nothing but his words to think of and the expression in his eyes that had burnt themselves right into her heart.

* * *

><p>"So, what does your Majesty think? What is your decision?".<p>

Tamina sighed upon the question of the councillor and met his look, her eyes fixed steadily on him.

She folded her hands and leant her chin on them, her look clouded by her thoughts that raced through her mind, and you could literally see how she weighed the pros and cons, her mind imagining all possible consequences of this one decision she had yet to make. Dastan took a deep breath while he watched her from his spot in the lines of the councillors. He had recently took up the habit to attend those councils, more or less with Tamina's explicit wish, and this had also been something that had changed after their reunion. Many things had changed.

The Queen of Alamut finally looked up, she appeared to have made a decision, but her look was unsure, wandering through the lines of men as if she feared they would question her authority again.

Dastan was well aware of the fear in her heart, since she had tried to explain to him how delicate the bond was between the her, the queen, and her councillors – as men they did not respect the woman she was, but only the authority her title gave her. Would she stray but only a little from her image of a strong, just but also strict ruler that bond would be shattered and the trust these old men had in her would fall apart. He took her advise to heart to not question her in front of the council again.

"I know what you ask of me, but I don't want to risk open war.

Koshkan is one insidious man, he won't fight fair – and an open battle would only play into his hands, he is planning something, like a snake, only waiting for us to make a mistake.

If we really want to defeat him we must beat him at his own game. _We_ must be the snake in the desert, covered and protected by the sand – and when the proper moment comes there is only one last bit needed to strike him down.".

Murmurs filled the hall with the echo of disappointment and disapproval while Dastan looked around, it wasn't hard for him to sense that the councillors weren't quite content with their ruler's decision. After the surprise attack of Koshkan they had been increasingly willing to declare war to the warlord – quite a rapid change of mind, even in his opinion. His eyes went back to Tamina and he could see how the insecurity claimed her face, clouding her look while she swallowed hard. Her whole body language spoke of the doubts and insecurity in her heart. The councillors would sense it. It was a very dangerous situation. Dastan's fear came true – however not in the way he had expected – when one of the advisers stepped forward to address his queen.

"Perhaps, your Majesty, it would be more appropriate for the King Consort to make such a decision.".

Immediate silence claimed the hall and no one even dared to breathe as they looked up to their queen, trying to guess her reaction to this – _almost_ – bold advise. Within the lines of the councillors Dastan believed to have misheard the last words, his jaw dropping almost down to his feet. No one was more shocked and surprised than him to hear such words from a councillor, an Alamutian councillor, who was – to say the least – not quite fond of him. However, he was not the only one and perhaps not the one who was most shocked about such words.

On her throne Tamina gasped in surprise, her eyes widening for a short moment as she startled over the words of the old man in front of her but then she recovered herself, remembering her place and her image. She was looking for the right words, obviously clinging to the belief that she had misheard the councillor or the like. But she was wrong.

"Excuse me?" she asked with a small smile that sought to cover her shock over his demand. She looked at him as if she expected him to revoke his earlier words but as he spoke again she sensed that she was fighting an already lost game.

"The King Consort, your Majesty, is, as your highest adviser regarding military matters, more likely in the position to make such an important question. He is a well-trained soldier and since he'd succeeded in taking our city it seems that he is the best choice we have to defend our city. Maybe...".

"Are you questioning my authority as your ruler?" Tamina interrupted him with a face that expressed her disbelief of his words. Unbelievable, she had married Dastan hardly three months ago and she got a mutiny on her tail already. This whole situation was absurd, to say the least. The councillor didn't twitch back by the sharpness of her words – whether this was good or bad thing she could not say, yet.

"No, I am questioning your authority as a woman.".

"What is that supposed to mean, councillor?" she snorted completely taken aback as she looked at the councillor as if she had seen him for the first time in her life. Judging by her ears he was talking in riddles she could not decipher, but she sensed that he was up to something. But never, never she would have expected to hear his next words, and neither did Dastan expect this to come.

"Perhaps it would be best for your, your Majesty, and for our city, if you leave the military decisions to our King Consort...as long as your are in your momentary _condition_.".

His words silenced her completely, shock and fear spread all over her face while her hands gripped the throne's arms so hard her knuckles turned white. Her whole body language spoke of the tension that held her in his grip. She would not speak, she could not counter his words. Dastan who had watched the scenery between both figures was confused by Tamina's sudden change of mind. It usually took a little more to render her completely speechless.

"What condition?" he asked while he slowly stepped forward, his eyes searching for her look for a moment, but she refused to meet his eyes – and this scared him more than anything else that had ever happened between them. The councillor, hearing his question, turned around to him, a bright smile shining all over his face that bewildered him, but nothing shocked him more than his next revelation.

"Joyous news, my brothers, we are blessed with life, new life.

A new heir to the throne of Alamut will be born. Our beloved queen is with child.".

* * *

><p>"Why haven't you told me?" he demanded after they had entered their chambers, locked up, hidden from all the ears and eyes of the palace, given this short moment of intimate space. Tamina, however, didn't look upon his question, and she didn't answer either. She simply walked over to the table, grabbing the edge of the wooden piece with her small hands, which yet could be surprisingly strong. He heard her sigh and he could literally see how she had closed her eyes in order to calm herself and after a few more minutes she finally spoke again.<p>

"I don't know.".

Her answer had been short, her voice low and small, almost shy, as if she feared he would be angry with her because she had kept this secret from him. However, this was a ridiculous idea; firstly because he could never be angry with her, and secondly because Tamina in all her wonderful pride would never be afraid of him. Dastan waited for a few heartbeats, expecting that she would continue, but she remained silent and so he raised his words again. The fear got the better of him and he couldn't hold back the next words that forced themselves outside, to be said out loud and to pushed themselves between them.

"Did you not tell me, because you never intended to keep it?".

"What?" she screamed furiously while she turned around in one single swift motion, her usually soft brown eyes fixed on him in an almost deadly manner. Dastan swallowed hard, but still he continued. The urge to know why she had kept quiet was stronger now than the threatening force of one of her infamous glares she shot back at him. He did not twitch back from the anger in her eyes, he only continued looking at her, his eyes never leaving her figure. Tamina, who – and he was well aware of this – never like it to be stared at like that, turned away. Her anger had suddenly vanished, gone as fast as it had come, and she was quiet now, so unbelievably quiet. He didn't know whether the news were the reason for her sudden change of mood, or her recent efforts to change her ways towards him.

"You haven't answered my question.

Do you want to have this...this _child_?" he asked again, choosing his words more carefully now, preventing to upset or aggravate her again. Tamina grabbed the edge of the table in front of her again, her fingers gripping the wooden piece so hard her knuckles turned white.

"I don't know..." she whispered and for one moment her voice bore a sound of restraint weakness, she was weary of fighting and yet she couldn't let herself give in. All she wanted was a quiet moment for herself, her head hurt like hell and she felt dizzy. She needed to think, she needed to be alone.

"Tamina...".

"I DON'T KNOW!" she yelled back at him while she turned around, now no longer searching to hold her anger back and it was only ever him who felt the sharp blade of her wrath, "Why should I always know the answer to all your questions?".

He didn't feel offended by her words, though, for he could see beneath her shield of anger and pride, she trembled, she must be terrified. She closed her eyes, trying to control the shivers that shook her body and she was hardly capable of covering this little weakness from him now.

"I haven't got time yet to think about it...", she sounded more concerned now, her voice low and hoarse, almost as if she wanted to cry. Dastan, acting on instinct, approached her without hesitation, offering her his help and she interpreted it as his attempt to already mollycoddle and patronise her.

"GET YOUR HANDS OF ME, DASTAN!" she yelled with a threatening, glaring look she shot warningly back at him and he took a few steps back, lifting his hands in a calming manner, although he was not actually afraid of her. In fact, he had to force himself to suppress his smile. Meanwhile he had become so used to her fighting spirit and quickly changing temper that it could almost always amuse him. The smile that he could hardly disguise, however, did not amuse her, it only increased her anger and so she continued her fit of rage.

"This is EXACTLY the reason why I did not want anyone to know!

Now the whole palace is convinced to know what is best for me! Suddenly, I'm not a monarch any more, no, there she is, nothing but a PREGNANT, LADEN COW!" she screamed and raged, in her outburst storming to their bed where she dramatically sank onto the edge of the bed. Dastan had to gather all his strengths in order not to laugh over her last words. He was very well aware of her hot temper and didn't intend to provoke her more than he'd already done. So, he wiped the small smile off his face and approached her with slow steps in order to revive her anger again. She didn't look when he placed his calloused hand on her shoulder, her eyes exclusively directed at her fingers which shook ever so lightly, hardly to recognise. But Dastan did see it and without hesitation he simply reached for her hands, under his touch her shivers faded as their fingers intertwined ever so naturally.

"I am not yet ready to be a mother." she suddenly said to his surprise, her voice low and shy, mirroring her whole body language, for she hadn't dared to look up when she said those words. The truth in her statement, her honesty, disarmed him and he couldn't but feel the painful sting of w_hat could be_. He had heard the councillor's words and it had changed something between them, it had changed everything, she was with child, and it was his child that blossomed inside her. He couldn't keep himself from seeing images in his mind's eye, images of things that could be and of things that, maybe, would be.

"Not now and not like this. Not when I know that you will leave me." she continued while she stood up and walked to the balcony, simply refusing to look at him as if one look into his eyes might shatter all her plans and decisions. Dastan frowned over her words, as he always did when she decided to speak in riddles again, and followed her to the balcony.

"I will never leave you, Ta –".

"Yes, you will." she interrupted him as she turned around swiftly, her face stern and melancholic as if she had never learned to smile, "Someday you will leave me. Someday you will never come back..."

Dastan, instead of trying to counter her words again, simply stared at her, trying to read the expression in her face and to understand the meaning of her words, and finally he realised that she was actually afraid. The fear he recognised in her eyes told him that the word _leaving_ bore a darker meaning for, he could read it in her eyes, her fear that he could leave her one day because death would take him. She was concerned for him, she was afraid to lose him. Was that the reason why she had been so unwilling to declare war? That she simply didn't want _him_ to fight...and possible die?

Dastan's eyes softened upon this realisation and softly, very carefully he took her face into his hands, her eyes finally meeting his warm glance and her armour of pride and strength slowly melted away. He slowly leant forward, his lips hovering over her slightly opened mouth, and she closed her eyes instantly while she expected his kiss in tender anticipation. However, he spoke once more, before he finally allowed their lips to meet – and she wasn't sure if it was the kiss or his words that caused the butterflies in her stomach.

"I love you, Tamina, I could never leave you.".


	12. Chapter 12

Sorry, sorry, sorry, Usually it doesn't take me so long for updates, but I've been extremely busy and unfortunatly, I'll propably won't be able to deliver the 13th Chapter in less than two weeks, cos' I'm going to do a practical training at a "Children's farm".

Hopefully this chapter will be able to ease your pain of waiting, but be warned, though, this chapter is really, really, **really** **sad** - so keep your tissues at hand!

Love ya, and as always comments are love!

* * *

><p><strong><span>12. The Tragedy<span>**

"Maybe we should wait for the King Consort, your Majesty." said one of the councillors who looked at her in this typical patronising manner, a kind of look she now constantly received, apparently, by anyone. Since her belly had begun to swell and her condition became to be more and more visible, the people of the palace increasingly turned to ignore her title and used to treat her like a totally naïve, young girl. Not that she was the Queen of Alamut, ruler of a Holy City, or the Highest Guardian of their Covenant, not to mention the daughter of the legendary Sarkander, most famous of all kings of Alamut. No, she was pregnant, and recently that had been the one and only title she had been allowed to bear. She was not allowed to make any decisions alone, or to get to _know_ of any important decisions that had been made in her _absence_ – she had to think of her unborn child, and her only concern should be the unborn heir, she had to rest...

Tamina sighed heavily and closed her eyes in order to calm herself, and _not_ to get up and yell at those ignorant old monks that her _condition_, as they used to call it, did not keep her from her duties as their Queen nor did it decrease her abilities as a ruler. But no, she was a woman and now that she was married and with child this fact became – all of the sudden – obvious. Yes, how could a woman ever be a truly capable ruler, a ridiculous idea, really.

"The King Consort is indisposed, gentlemen, whether you want to or not, you will have to put up with me, instead." she finally said, her usually so soft voice bearing an ice-cold touch, the velvet of her words had turned to steel, rough and unyielding. Her brown eyes were clear, piercing right through them, "So, tell me what is planned for Koshkan? How are we going to deal with him?".

She didn't back away, though she might started to look like a laden cow, she was still a monarch after all, and she never stopped thinking like one. That's how she'd been brought up, the only thing she ever learnt, the only way she ever knew – and besides that, it was easier for her to blame her stubborn attitude on her pride rather than on the fact (which she did not admit to herself, obviously) that the thought of becoming a mother, and thus changing the way the people around her treated her, scared even the wits out of her.

"Your Majesty surely understands that such matters are better dealt with by men who have knowledge of such things. The King Consort –"

"Last time I looked, Tamina, _Queen_ of Alamut, was still sitting on the throne and wearing the crown, and not Dastan, my King _Consort_ and subject to me." she growled aggravated while the nails of her fingers dug deep into the wood of the throne's arms. A sudden flash of pain that struck through her body distracted her for a moment, but the anger that controlled her mind replaced the thoughts of pain quite quickly. She should not give them another reason to call her a weak woman, a weak, useless woman that had better be replaced by a man – even if that man happened to be a Persian, once an enemy of their realm.

It was ridiculous, completely intelligible even, that those men, not too long ago arguing against said Persian, sought to replace her by this very man – just because she happened to be a woman. Of course, none of them would ever utter such words out loud, for it was high treason, but she could sense it. The way they looked at her, it had changed, slowly, almost too slowly for to realise. She hadn't seen it coming. Now that she had been wed to a man, having his child, they had realised that she, although being a ruler, was still just a woman, weak in their eyes, unable to reign, because her pregnancy proved to them that she was nothing more than a woman, not better than any other woman, and not equal to any man, not in physical strength nor in her mind's power.

Another sudden flash of pain tore her out of her thoughts and she hissed quietly, forcing herself to keep it silent to the ears of the councillors. She took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts while the little pain faded into nowhere again. Showing off her weaknesses would do her no good and so she turned her look to her councillors, keeping the mask of an invulnerable, infallible monarch intact.

"I am your queen and so it is I who makes the decisions. You have been content enough with my leading qualities before, in any matters, so tell me what do our tactics regarding Koshkan look like?" she started again, but her voice missed the essence of her determination this time, she sounded stubborn, but yet restraint. The shallow pain in her lower body remained like an uncomfortable weight on her, she was now constantly aware of it, but she fought to hide it from them. The councillors looked at each other for a moment, a quiet murmuring following her words and she relaxed a little bit, trying to get more comfortable in her throne so she could suppress the pain a little bit longer, for she believed that the men were now finally coming around.

"We are planning a sneak attack, your Royal Highness, but it would be better if we wait for the King –"

"Enough!" she yelled while she jumped up from her throne, breathing heavily and uncontrolled. To hear Dastan's title named in such a way once more had made her just snap. It was as if those men already considered him to be the monarch – and she as nothing but the wife to bear children, a true Queen Consort, "I am tired of –".

She had wanted to go on with her reprimand, she had wanted to tell them that she was their ruler, the head of their city and that nothing but death could change that – and then all of the sudden there was nothing but pain. It started in her lower body, a flash of agonising heat that burnt soon through her whole body, as if someone had stabbed her. _Had she become the victim of an assassination?_

A terrible sound pierced to her ears, an eardrum shredding scream and it took her some moments to realise that it had been she herself who had screamed. She felt how she swayed, pushed down by the weight of pain, and then she eventually sank to the earth. However she did not feel the cold of the marble floor under her cheek, old but yet strong arms caught her before she could have fallen to the ground. She could hear a jumble of different voices that spoke hectically and frantically, yet she could not see them properly, the pain blurred her vision and her ability to think clearly. She couldn't even breathe normally while the hot feeling of pain burnt through her senses. The confusion and despair around her scared her, she had never been so afraid in her whole life.

Another wave of pain brought her back to the surface of her thinking, the all too sharp pain cleared her senses and now the voices and movements around were not blurred any more, but painfully clear. She could see the fear in the eyes of the councillors and panic gripped her heart so tight that she lost her breath for a moment or two. Then, to her shock the pain was overlaid by something else, it felt warm, no, almost hot and wet as it saturated her skirts and just before the pain blurred her vision and thinking again she looked at the red colour of her own blood that spread down her thighs.

* * *

><p>Dastan hastened down the corridor, not really happy about being called like some little dog. He had been down in the courtyard, doing a few manoeuvres with the Alamutian soldiers, after all, the plans had been set, now it was time for the preparations. The army of the Holy City was, to be perfectly honest, not quite worthy of bearing such a name. Most of them were good archers, but beyond that their abilities were not very breathtaking. It appeared unexplainable to him that Alamut still stood at all. How did they do it to protect such a rich city with so poorly trained soldiers?<p>

Of course, Alamut had mostly been spared of major attacks, thanks to the diplomatic head of their queen who was more fond of fighting with her sharp tongue rather than with a real sword. It was more or less a huge surprise to him that her usual tactics _did_ protect her city so exceedingly well all those years. _Clearly she made a fine queen_, Dastan thought as he remembered the words of his father.

However his smile quickly faded while he quickened up his pace towards their chambers. He had been, to say the least, not quite happy that his training had been interrupted, in particular when he didn't know why he had to stop and run like a dog to his mistress. Not that it was something new that Tamina expected him to do whatever she wanted and whenever she wanted him to do it, however recently her rapid mood changes had been extreme, even by her standards. Dastan passed the last corner and he already saw Asoka standing in front of the door to Tamina's chambers.

"What the hell is going –" he just started and then he was suddenly silence while the air was filled with a scream he had never heard before. He immediately stopped in his tracks, shocked with all the pain he heard in this scream, the sound pierced right through him, forced shivers to run down his spine. Fear gripped his heart so tight he could not breathe when he realised that the scream had come out of Tamina's chambers and that it had been her who had screamed. Thousands of thoughts flashed through his mind, millions of his worst fears and nightmares and each and everyone of them revolved around Tamina, who suffered, who was in pain...who was about to _die_...

There was a short moment of shock, a small second where he couldn't even move – and then he acted purely on instincts. Dastan rushed to the door, all he cared for now was to get to Tamina, but just in the moment where he could have opened the door Asoka grabbed his arms and pulled him back. The Alamutian Guardian pushed him back and blocked his way to the door, his eyes were clear and focused on him, and his body language told him undoubtedly that he would not let him pass.

"You can't go in there, _king_, you are of no use to her in there." Asoka said with his typical low voice, his face was stern and tensed, yet there was also some hint of fear in it. What was he afraid of, was he afraid of his king, or that his beloved queen was about to die?

Another scream of Tamina, that echoed through the chambers and pierced through the door, caught their attention for a moment and again Dastan tried to get past Asoka, but the Guardian, using all his amount of strength, managed it to hold him back. Asoka pushed him back again, his eyes speaking of a fair warning, but yet another scream of Tamina – even more shrill and high-pitched this time – made Dastan go almost completely mad. He couldn't think clearly any longer, the barest thought of her in pain and fear, rendered him completely furious, helpless even.

"Get out of my way." he said slowly through his clenched teeth, putting clear emphasis on every syllable, and the look he threw back at the Guardian let his demand appear almost as a threat.

"She did not ask for you." Asoka countered, but when he met his eyes Dastan knew that it had been a lie. He just wanted to try to get through that door when another scream startled and shocked him, he could hear how her voice broke of all the pain, and he felt sick, he felt her pain and despair as if it was his own, and it made him sick. Dastan stumbled backwards against the opposite wall and slowly slid down to the ground, letting his head fall into his hands so he could hide his tears.

Now, that he abandoned his anger to welcome the despair and fear, he could think again, and every thought in his head appeared to focus on the unknown nightmare behind that door. Other sounds appeared beside her screaming, there was a bunch of rushed voices, strained with fear and concern, the despair he heard in those words terrified him even more for he could not understand them properly. But he didn't need to hear what they said to know that something terrible was happening.

It was too early, although he never knew much of such things, he knew that it was not yet time for the child to come, it was too early.

Yet another scream of Tamina startled him and tore him out of his thoughts, because this one had sounded different from all the screams he had before. To his ears it sounded like the climax of pain, like a wave of agony that drifted towards him and then finally broke, with all her pain and despair to collapse over him. He shivered in the distance as he heard her voice break after that scream and for one moment there was nothing but silence. A terrible silence, saturated with fear and uncertainty, a terrorising silence that deafened him and made his heart stop dead for a beat or two.

And then hell broke loose.

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><p>A whole mess of nervous female voices came out of the chamber now, they spoke too fast for him to understand any words they said, but he very well understood the concern and despair in their voices. He felt his pulse quickening in response, the uncertainty was about to kill him, every second that passed, every second he didn't know what was happening, killed him, every second a little more. He pulled himself up again and simultaneously Asoka moved, his eyes fixed upon him, ready to push him back again – yet he appeared distracted, the rushed female voices terrified even him.<p>

And above all else, above all voices and sounds, they could hear Tamina's voice, strained, exhausted, desperate – full of tears she would never allow herself to shed.

Then suddenly the massive door opened and both, Dastan's and Asoka's eyes went to the entrance, but the female appearance that stepped outside the chamber was not the hoped for Queen. It was a young maid, hardly eighteen years old, full clothed in white fabric, but the white of her dress was soiled with a red colour and Dastan had to swallow hard when she finally lifted her glance up to him. The grieve and sorrow he read in the young maid's eyes beat the air out of his lungs, and there in her fragile arms she held a little bundle of silken, blue fabric, and he could see small dots of blood sprinkled all over it.

He couldn't move, all air was gone, and everything that had once meant the world to him became meaningless in this one split of a moment. He couldn't move while she walked over to him. He couldn't look into her eyes, so full of tears. He couldn't feel a thing. He couldn't handle it to feel.

He didn't want to feel. When the maid had finally approached him she stretched her arms out and held the bundle to him, and when she spoke her voice broke several times because of her tears.

"It was not yet strong enough, my king, it came too early." she whispered, her voice sounding numb, almost too overwhelmed by her emotion, "It would have been a son, my king.".

The last words finally brought him out of his shock and opened his heart for the feeling of pain and sorrow, and he drowned in that feeling, deeper and deeper until he thought he could never reach the surface again. He felt the tears burning on his cheeks but he couldn't bring himself to feel ashamed to show such weakness in public. His eyes moved away from the maid's glance and fell at last on the bundle she still offered to him.

Dastan swallowed hard, looking down at this bundle that appeared so little, so meaningless, so plain, and yet it represented all his pain and fears. Only for one second he dared to raise his hands as if he wanted to take it, his fingers approaching the bundle, nearly touching it – but he found himself unable to look at it. Looking at it would make it real, and the pain was still too fresh to be dealt with directly. He couldn't look at _his_ own son, couldn't lay his eyes upon the innocent hope that was now dead, _his_ son was dead, dead and gone – and he couldn't bear to look at the child that should have had the chance to grow, to laugh and learn, a child, _his_ child, that should have had the joy to _live_.

His arms twitched back immediately before they could have touched the bundle and instantly his glance fell back to the door, from time to time other women slipped out of the chamber, their old, worn-out faces spoke of a silent sadness that told so much more than thousands of words could have done it. In their hands – although he could not bring himself to look at it – there were fabrics, once of a white shine now dirtied with a red colour he knew all too well. But no one looked into his eyes, no one dared to face or to address him. Were there more tragedies to come?

Dastan didn't hesitate for a moment, he ignored the people around him and simply walked over to the door – and now, Asoka, the most trusted Guardian, wasn't trying to hold him back any longer.

Broken by the terrible news, he was like all the others unable to look into his eyes. Dastan walked past him, entering the chamber in slow steps, almost feeling like a ghost, numbed, unable to feel the pain and yet only able to feel nothing but this pain.

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><p>When the door fell shut, the appearance on the bed came back to live again and Dastan swallowed hard in order to keep his pain and panic at bay, for he hadn't been able to recognise Tamina at first.<p>

Tamina crouched on the bed, her nightgown (they must have forced her to put it on for the birth, he thought to himself) appeared to be glued to her skin, old sweat made her skin glow, but it only emphasised her whole appearance of exhaustion and despair. She still breathed heavily, her usually wonderfully black hair was all a mess and she looked tired, as if she had aged in this night for a hundred years. But it were her eyes that shocked him most. Her usually amazing, brown eyes seemed dull now, all mysterious depth had vanished into the night, she was as easy to read as an opened book; and what he read in her glance knocked the air out of his lungs.

"What happened?" she demanded to know but the voice that came out of her mouth sounded nothing like the Tamina he knew and loved. There was a strange expression of weakness in the way she had said those words which had sounded hardly like the demanding tone she usually used whenever she addressed him for an answer. She sounded broken and confused, an image of her disturbed soul. Did she not even recognise him? Did she not remember what had been taken away from them?

"Where is my son?" she screamed but it had been more of a hoarse whisper, tears streamed down her face, blurring her once so clear, strong voice. The Queen of Alamut tried to get off the bed, but she swayed and fell right back – nothing was left, nothing. She was only a shadow of the woman she had once been, a ghost, and the memory of her challenging, lively eyes haunted him.

"Why didn't he scream?" she asked again, the words cut right into his already bleeding heart and he asked himself if she had lost her mind over her loss. However, the clear tears in her brown eyes told him that she knew very well what had happened, she just didn't want to accept it, she couldn't face it, she wouldn't. She was determined to poison her heart, making it believe a lie instead of listening to the truth of her mind – believing everything, pretending not to know the truth in order to deny it. Accepting the truth would make it real, the lie was so much softer, more comforting in contrast to the sharp claws of reality that cut into their hearts. But it remained a lie, and no matter how comforting it sounded it could never make undone what had been taken from that: he could see in her eyes that she knew all too well what had happened to her child.

"He's dead." he simply said, feeling the hot tears on his cheeks that made his voice sound hoarse and desperate, and for one moment they both were too shocked to speak. It was the first time that one of them had said it out loud and now that the words had been said, there was no denial possible any longer. Dastan looked over to Tamina who stared at him in shock and pain – and for one moment he believed that she finally acknowledged this sad truth to herself, but he was again very much mistaken.

"NO!", the sudden silence of his words was disturbed by an eardrum shredding scream, tears and fears, sadness and anger melted down into her grievous rage as she tried to get up and to storm towards him, but he was faster than her. He approached in slow steps in order not to upset her further and while he went towards her he repeated his words, almost like a mantra, for he didn't know what else to say in order to force her to face the fact. When he stood right in front of her she started fighting him again, her little hands clenched to fists sought for his head, beating those words out of him, trying to make him shut up and to push him away. However, Dastan simply ignored her punches and grabbed her wrists, the easiness with which he could overpower her shocked even him. Had she no strength left to fight him, no strength to fight for life?

He finally embraced his wife, his arms coming around her, pressing her against him, and then after a while he felt her body responding to him, at first only hesitantly, but then all he resistance completely washed away. He could feel her body shiver and shake within his arms while she cried her so long unshed tears against his chest, her little fists gripping into the fabric of his clothes, clinging to him as if he was the last thing she had left in this world.

And he heard her sob against his chest, pleading him to give her the son she could never have, begging him to at least hold him for a minute or maybe even two. Dastan pressed her even tighter against him, his pain mixing up with hers, since he knew he could never give her what she desired so desperately, and now he couldn't hold his own grieve back any longer. They cried together, clinging to each other like children in the night, but not even the touch of one another could comfort them in this night. There were no words left to say, nothing to ease the pain of this loss and so they wept in silence and within each other arms.


	13. Chapter 13

I am really sorry for the delay, been immensly busy.

There is more to come, Koshkan still needs to be defeated and I know we all wait for Tamina to finally say _the_ words!

Enjoy and comment!

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><p><strong><span>13. The Pain and The Fear<span>**

When Dastan returned from the council's meeting he believed to have fought the most difficult and longest battle of his life. Never had he felt so exhausted before, but those old – _wise_ – men had debated the last bit of strength out of him. He had always known that he was not capable of being king, and he just started to understand how much power it really took to be good ruler. His last thought brought his mind back to Tamina. Just as quiet as possible he pushed the door open and entered their chambers, his eyes automatically searched for Tamina.

He felt a painful sting in his heart when he just found her in bed, her small body curled up into a ball of flesh and fabric, her pitch black hair covering her face. Yet he didn't have to see her face to know that her eyes would be reddened, just as usual lately, for she often cried. For weeks now, the Queen of Alamut had hardly ever left her bed, she had hardly eaten anything, too. She had stopped talking – she had become a ghost to him.

For him, the loss of their child had been almost unbearable, in particular after he'd finally admitted to himself how much he'd craved for a son, for this son, their son. Yet, despite all his desire for this child he couldn't bring himself to look at it, but he knew that Tamina had laid eyes upon it. She had demanded it – _ordered_ it – and who was he to disobey his queen? He swore, he could never forget that look on her face as she looked at their stillborn child, the shock and pain in her eyes had torn his heart to bits. She hadn't stopped crying for the rest of the day, and after that day she had stopped talking at all.

She had turned cold and absent, she never even muttered a word, not even when he'd screamed at her – and her consequent silence had driven him crazy more than just once – and begged her to respond to him. Nothing. She remained silent and her eyes, once full of life and wit, now looked empty and tired. Her will of life was broken. She was broken. And it broke him to see her like that.

For the last weeks he had been forced to take over for her in the council because she neglected her duties as the queen, she never received any visitors – except him, though it felt like she didn't even note his presence. She was caught, totally caught in her grieve.

Every day was like a new torment for him, to be forced to watch her suffer broke him slowly but steadily, even more because he knew there was nothing he could do to ease her pain. He shared her pain and he even felt more pain, because her suffering pained his heart even more. During the day, it was somehow possible for him to distract himself with all the work and duties he suddenly had to fulfil – it were the nights he was most afraid of.

At night he could hear her cry, although he was sure she didn't want him to know. But he _did_ hear her, he could feel her shaking beside him, her body shaking with all the tears and all the unsaid words to give breath to her grieve. And every time he wanted nothing more than to turn around and take her into his arms, he wanted to comfort her, take away her tears and sorrow. But he didn't dare to even touch her, he feared it would only upset her more and so days and weeks had passed and the distance between them grew on and on – it felt like a giant abyss none of them dared to pass. Their grieve kept them apart. They didn't touch, they didn't speak – none of them could talk of their son and so they didn't talk at all.

Words could not heal the wounds death had caused them.

* * *

><p>Dastan jerked up in bed while a little cry was drawn from his chest. He stared, with eyes wide open, into the thick darkness of night that flooded through the windows into their chambers. His breathing came fast and short, his pulse was racing and the adrenaline rushed through his veins – he needed a moment to realise where he was. His mind was still affected from that dream he'd just woken up from. Old sweat of fear and panic glued his sleeping clothes to his body and in a sudden chill of night he shivered, though it was not only the cool night's air that caused that reaction.<p>

The dream he had just escaped from wasn't exactly a dream, for it was more of a memory, a memory that used to haunt him, now more than ever. Long he had tried to forget that other timeline, to forget the mistakes he had made back then, the people he lost, but above all else he had tried to forget the moment when he had lost her. Her scream echoed through his head, so clear as if had happened only yesterday, and the memory of that moment haunted him, tormented him with the feeling of her slipping out of his hands. He couldn't hold her.

Dastan automatically looked to the other side of the bed, like he had done it so often after he'd awoken from a nightmare like this, and to reassure himself with the sight of her sleeping peacefully next to him, warm and safe. But tonight, his eyes missed the reassurance they so badly needed to send him back to sleep again: Tamina's side of their bed was empty.

All of the sudden he was alarmed, his senses were on high alert, he looked around, his eyes scanning the room, searching for her, but he did not find her. He jumped out of the bed, his hands naturally fumbling for his sword he never put too far away. His immediate thought was that something must have happened to Tamina, she hadn't left the bed in weeks, so there must have been a _forceful_ reason for her to be gone. Had the Queen of Alamut been kidnapped? The soldier in him awakened and searched the room for any kind of signs that showed him a fight had happened – but of course he would have heard it.

It was only then that he realised the door to their chambers which hadn't been closed properly. Dastan walked towards the wooden door – no sign of incursion – and opened it, the halls were dead empty yet he couldn't suppress the thought that not too long ago someone had walked here. Perhaps it was not a bad sign, perhaps Tamina had just overcome her grieve and left the bed, perhaps she walked around the palace, perhaps she was all right...

Dastan shook off the thought, after weeks and weeks of watching her grieve, he knew she couldn't shake off her sorrow within a night – whatever reason she had had to get up in the middle of the night, she was _not_ okay. In his head he searched for all the possible places in the palace she could have gone when suddenly he heard the creaking of an old door that swung open. It wasn't hard for him to tell where the sound had come from.

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><p>Dastan followed her within a moderate distance, not too close behind her so she wouldn't be alarmed by any possible sound he could make, yet close enough for him to watch her and to follow her to her final destination. Although he now knew that there was no immediate danger which had taken her he still kept his sword handy, ready for any sudden surprises.<p>

She did not keep him in the dark for long and after a while it wasn't hard for him to tell any longer where she was heading to: he had walked this path with her twice now. Once in this other timeline, back then when he had followed her to the Chamber of the Sandglass, both tired and exhausted but determined to stop the evil that's shadowed both their lives. The second time, she had led him to the secret tomb and last resting place of everything that was left of her family, the day he had learned more than he'd wanted to about her past and how it had been bound to the Dagger.

Again he followed her down to the tunnels and secret passages that lay below the palace and the city of Alamut, once again he trod this path that led him into another place and time altogether. He almost decided to turn around and leave her alone, for he assumed she desired to visit her family's graves – and he knew she would search for the fresh grave, far smaller than all the other sarcophagi.

It wasn't for him to watch her grieve, she wanted to be left alone and he wouldn't disturb her if she needed this moment for herself.

However, just in the moment when he was about to leave Tamina did something that surprised him. Instead of bending off to the right and following the tunnel towards the family tomb, the Queen of Alamut walked straight forward although she _did_ hesitate at the point where both passages crossed – but after a short moment she stepped right onto the path that distanced her more and more from the tomb and brought her to a quite different place.

Dastan felt his throat tighten, for every step brought them closer to the one place he swore he would never enter again in his whole life – and the one place he would never forget, in his whole life. But Tamina, still unaware of his presence, did not hesitate, her step as determined as it hadn't been in a long time, she walked on and on, leading them both to the heart of Alamut.

For one moment his eyes were blinded by the sudden rush of light, the passages towards the Chamber had been unlit and in complete darkness (Tamina never brought any torch, for she knew the path by heart), and he needed a moment to adjust to the picture but then he looked at the most sacred place in the whole Orient. The Sandglass of the Gods presented itself to him in an imagery of fiery light locked up into glassy stone – the mirrored glass that had imprisoned time and kept the supernatural wrath at bay. At least for now. This terrifyingly beautiful hallow hadn't lost any of his breathtaking and intimidating force.

Tamina, however, did not seem to acknowledge the beauty or danger of it, she walked straight towards the Sandglass, although her step did falter now, and she swayed a little. Of course, she hadn't been eating properly in weeks, and her grieve had exhausted her to the point of total self-punishment. Dastan had to suppress the reflex to rush towards her and to help her, he stepped back, trying to hide behind the stonewall again, but this one sound had betrayed him.

* * *

><p>Tamina flipped around in one swift movement, the surprise and shock was written all over her face and now he could see that she had been crying – the tiredness and exhaustion of weeks and weeks of grieve burnt in her dark eyes. Yet he could also recognise a determination that sent shivers down his spine. It was only then when he noticed that she held something in her left hand, he looked a bit closer and felt a strange coldness overpowering him. The Dagger of Time looked beautiful yet threatening in her small, fragile hand (she must have taken it from the High Temple sometime in the night) – all of the sudden, the sacredness this blade inhabited seemed lost, and the innocence of her skin seemed tainted.<p>

"Tamina, what are you doing here?" he whispered after he'd found his breath again, but she didn't answer him, she simply stared at him, her eyes so full of this unbearable pain and despair that he had to swallow hard. He felt his throat tighten when he saw her cry, the look in her eyes was the look of shame, of guilt, a look of false yet desperate hope. When he noted how the Dagger shook in her little hand he understood. Dastan understood why she had come here, why she had left the safety of her bed in the middle of the night, why she had taken the Dagger from its sacred place, he understood why she had come to this place, now he finally _understood_.

The memory of the story she had once told him stroke him like a lightning strike – and he remembered what she had said about her wish to change what had happened to her family; how she had come down to the Sandglass with the sacred Dagger in her hand in order to test herself if she'd be strong enough to withstand that sinful wish. But this here, this was different, she hadn't come here to withstand, she had come here to yield to her wish: to undo what had happened and to bring back the son she now could never have.

Dastan felt the shock numbing his mind, the thoughts raced through his mind so quickly he couldn't think properly, but he knew he had to do something, he had to stop her, and save her – even from herself. He approached her slowly, careful not to frighten her and scare her into any hasty movements. Tamina watched him with suspicious, dark eyes, never leaving his figure – but then she suddenly turned around, facing the Sandglass once again. In her heart, two woman fought: the Guardian who had sworn to protect the Dagger with her life, and the Woman who longed for the one thing in this world that had been her own, her child – and in this moment the Guardian appeared to have lost.

The Queen of Alamut raised the Dagger in her hand – but not in order to pierce the glass of time – and directed the blade against herself. The hand with the Dagger shook heavily, as her whole body was shaken by fear and sorrow and tears, and she found herself unable to do it. Despite all her desperation and grieve, all her self-hatred and hopelessness, she couldn't bring herself to end her own life.

She didn't see him coming, she only got to know how close he already was when she felt his hand coming from behind. His calloused hand lay themselves upon her small hands, she breathed heavily when she heard him talking into her ear, softly and soothing, and he could feel the resistance within her shaking body. A part of her wanted nothing more than to let go and come back to him, but the other part needed to bring an end to this suffering and to find peace in death. However, Dastan did not let go of her, his strong arms that pressed her cold body against his warm skin, his strong hands that kept her from ending her own life – he would not allow her to leave him like that.

For a last time he felt how she tried to run herself through with the Dagger but his hands, strong as they were, kept her easily from doing so. He felt her desperation, felt how her body shivered against him – and then he felt her resistance slipping away. She let go of the Dagger, she let herself go heavy in his arms while the tears and sobs shook her body. Now her fingers grabbed his hands desperately, seeking for him to hold her and his hold on her grew automatically stronger, reassuring her, comforting her. They both sank to the ground, seeking for each others warmth and comfort.

* * *

><p>Dastan sighed heavily, looking to the horizon, the dawn only moments away, before his eyes fell back to Tamina who lay in the bed, right next to him, fast asleep. It had been only hours since they had returned from the Chamber of the Sandglass, he had carried her away from that place himself, and in the bed she had collapsed into a long, fast sleep. She did not dream, or cry in her sleep, her face was clear, her mind was peaceful, for the first time in a very long time.<p>

Dastan looked up again, his eyes falling upon the Dagger of Time that lay on the table beside their bed; he hadn't brought it back yet – he hadn't dared to leave her, not even for a moment. Perhaps, he thought, this was the final turning point, maybe she was finally ready to let go of her grieve, and slowly come back to life again. He still shivered when he thought of the picture of her standing in front of the Sandglass, the Dagger drawn, ready to end her life and to be with her loved ones again.

He couldn't keep himself from imagining another situation where they had faced death in the Chamber of the Sandglass – however, this time, he had defeated the shadows that had longed to take her away from him.

A movement next to him drew him out of his thoughts and as he looked down at Tamina he stared at her clear, brown eyes. She glanced at him with mysterious eyes and he found it impossible to read the expression in her look. Tamina slowly sat up, her eyes now turned away from him and it took him a while before he realised that she was staring at the Dagger on the table. Neither of them said anything, they needed no words, what they had shared and experienced only a few hours ago was beyond words.

"Thank you." she said in a low whisper as she finally broke the long silence between them and Dastan turned his head to face her again, only to see that she was looking at him. Her eyes were filled with a strange expression and it took him a few moments before he was able to counter something.

"For what?".

Upon his question, Tamina appeared to twitch, something flashed through her eyes, but it had happened too quickly for him to realised what it had been. She swallowed hard and quickly looked away, obviously feeling uneasy about the situation, but after a few more breaths she appeared to have found her words again.

"For not blaming me. Every other man would have blamed me...for the loss of the child, every other man would have divorced me...", Dastan's eyes softened when he heard her shy, whispered words, she didn't look up, didn't find the courage to do it, and he felt her shame, although he wasn't sure of what she felt shamed of.

"I am not every man, Tamina – do you really don't understand my feelings for you?" he said softly and there was something in the way he had said it that made her – _forced_ her – to look up and meet his eyes in the still dark light of coming dawn. She felt breathless, helpless even by what she saw reflected in his eyes, yes she could see all those feeling he spoke of, and even more. A sudden memory of another day flashed through her mind, another day where he shocked her with his feelings for her – and the same feeling overpowered her once more while she looked into his eyes.

He had said those _words_, and it scared her. Everything about those three simple words scared her, the way they had sounded when they'd come out of his mouth, for they had sounded real, all too real, the genuine tone of the syllables had made her shiver – and the very memory of him saying those words made her shiver again.

It scared her, it scared her to face those words and the feelings they stood for, it scared her to confess what those words might awoke in her, she was scared to trust those words – she was afraid that if she opened her heart again it would be broken, and everything she was would shatter. She had endured too much pain and loss already – could she dare to risk another scar to come?

Tamina turned away, hiding her face in the darkness of night, for she didn't want him to see the tears that burned in her eyes, but Dastan's hindered her to hide herself from him any more. He took her face in his calloused hands, forcing her to face him and to meet his eyes that appeared to burn themselves into hers.

"Don't do that, Tamina, don't shut me out."

And he looked at her with those eyes that told her of all the things he felt for her, and she couldn't bear it to look into his eyes, she simply couldn't. She tried to free herself out of his hands' grip, but although he hardly used any force he kept her in his grasp. He wouldn't let go of her – and she felt her resistance slip away with every moment she stared into those brown orbs that looked at her with concern and tenderness.

She wanted to believe him, she wanted to accept it, feel it, she wanted to be completely consumed by his feelings, his _love_, – but the fear of that warning memory of her past haunted her. She felt herself break down again, she felt torn by her fear and her hope, and helpless as she was she let herself fall against him. She pressed her face in the crook of his neck, her arms coming around his neck, seeking for his warmth and comfort, and Dastan although surprised by her sudden reaction wrapped his arms around her small waist, keeping her close to him.

She closed her eyes, listening to the calming steady beat of his heart, and she knew, if her heart was to be broken and destroyed, she wanted to it to be broken and destroyed by love – _his love_ –, and not by fear.


	14. Chapter 14

So, mates, I know it's been quite some time and I promised to have this chapter finished a long time ago, but, well...busy, busy! BUT you shall not be disappointed!

This chapter shall leave you all with a warm feeling!

Have fun and as always comments are love (and keep me writing!) !

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><p><strong><span>14. The deep breath before the plunge<span>  
><strong>

Tamina took a deep breath and waited, with closed eyes, outside the Great Hall. She had never felt so nervous in her whole life, never, or maybe only back then when she as a young naïve thirteen-year old girl had supervised the Council for the very first time. Back then she had had no idea what it meant to be ruler of city such as this, and it had taken her a long time to free herself from the councillor's patronisation and to find her own strength, to be the ruler she was destined to be.

Now, all those years later she stood again outside the Great Hall, terrified to enter that Chamber of Power, nervous, uncertain of herself. It was her first time after those long weeks of absence that she dared to attend a council's meeting again, and she was full of doubts. She felt not yet ready, and she felt some sort of guilt inside that she had neglected her duties far too long, but most of all she feared to stand in front of the councillors, their judging eyes staring at her.

In any other case she would've got the hell out of here and fled back to her chambers, however, since Dastan stood behind her, her escape route was blocked. Her king stepped closer behind her until she felt his body's warmth and for once her thoughts were drawn from the upcoming council. His right hand searched for her left hand and when he found it she instinctively closed her fingers around his.

"You can do this, Tamina." she heard him whisper, almost too close to her ear, his breath nearly caressing her skin. She pressed his hand a little harder, and his responsive touch braved her for whatever awaited her behind those doors. She took another deep breath, and suddenly she felt calmer, stronger, wiser. She let go of his hand and opened her eyes – she felt ready.

The doors to the Great Hall were opened for her and she did not hesitate to step across the treshold, and walked straight towards the Golden Throne. She nodded towards some of the councillors while passing by, but she was able to keep her nervousness at bay – Dastan walked always behind her, like a shadow, loyal, comforting, braving. When she'd arrived at the throne, she turned around and took her seat, (Dastan took his place on the right side behind her throne) she took another deep breath – the Queen had returned on the Golden Throne of Alamut.

However, before Tamina had any chance to speak, a old, but nonetheless friendly looking priest stepped forward, bowing formally, as he addressed her, "Welcome back, your Majesty, it is so good to see you again.". Tamina, for a moment speechless, nodded helplessly, her lips wearing a shy but honest smile, and so the councillor returned to his place in the rows of the other advisers. All pairs of eyes were now set on Tamina, again, and she cleared her throat several times (a few times too often, though) before she finally started to speak.

"I must thank you for the warm welcome, my friends, I confess it has been...far too long since I've sat here, amongst you, my friends, where I belong.", at this point she made a little pause, taking a deep breath, ordering her thoughts, "However, as I believe I have been represented well enough by my King Consort. Now, though, I have reclaimed my seat, and my place as Queen in council.

So, do let me hear, what are your plans regarding Koshkan? I have been informed that you and the King Consort –", at this she gave a little, almost unnoticed nod towards Dastan, "have come up with a strategy that shall save my city _and_ finally defeat my enemy.".

Tamina took a deep breath after she'd finished her little speech, she felt her cheeks burning and didn't doubt that her nervousness was widely noticeable, however, none of the councillors sought to address her blushing, but rather turned to her request. Out of the rows of the advisers, a rather young man (at least, in comparison to the other councillors) stepped forth and Tamina gave a little, encouraging smile as she faced Asoka.

"Your Highness." he whispered almost in a worshipfully sort of manner and bowed formally, yet the small smile he shot back at her managed it to reduce a little bit of the nervousness that discomforted her. "If your Majesty might be so gracious to look upon these maps." he said quickly as he raised up again, a tone of almost childish excitement in his voice, while he called for two servants who brought a bunch of old, wrinkled looking maps and charts. Tamina leant forward as the servants spread the papers out on the marble floor, and she narrowed her eyes while she examined the maps more carefully.

The first map, undoubtedly, depicted Alamut and his surroundings, and several spots had been marked with words written in flash red ('possible water supply', 'hiding place', 'sniper spot') that meant a lot more to the few soldier-type persons present in the room rather than to her. The second map, however, presented itself to her eyes as a full-scale depiction of the city of Alamut, and every possible building and the like appeared to have been taken into account when that map had been made. Like the other map, this one had some notes added in highlighting red colour, the information, though, were of complete different nature.

"Does the Warlord know that we've rebuilt the damaged wall at the Eastern Gate?" she asked after she'd read the note ('rebuilt part of the wall – possible target') on the map, perfectly written at the exact spot of the Eastern Gate on the map.

"As a matter of fact, your Highness, he does." Asoka answered at once, taking at step closer towards his monarch, and Tamina, automatically, looked up to meet his eyes with a thoughtful, concerned look, "Is the wall at the Eastern Gate stronger, now that it's been rebuilt, or is it weaker?".

"Stronger, your Majesty."he threw in again and Tamina narrowed her eyes suspiciously upon his answer, her look fell back on the map before she met his eyes again, "I assume, he does _not_ know _that_?". The nod Asoka gave her assured her in her assumption, "So, you expect him to attack at the Eastern Gate?".

Upon her answer, Asoka's face broke into a huge, almost proud smile, while he stepped back to prepare further explanation by the map – his fingers pointed towards the spot that said 'Eastern Gate' as he spoke again.

"He will see the Eastern Gate as our weakest point – that's the spot he will attack, as he is a man that seeks for every advantage. Because of his targeting of our alleged weak points, he will take us as a city easy to be taken – he himself will ride ahead of his army, claiming the honour of slaying the first blood. However, we will await him there. Our King Consort himself will lead this special mission – to kill the snake by chopping the head of, so to speak.".

At his last words, Dastan, who had stood right behind her throne all the time, stepped forward and joined Asoka in front of the throne and next to the maps on the ground. He, however, did not dare to look up to her. Tamina swallowed hard as she forced her look away from Dastan and focused on Asoka instead as she addressed _not_ her highest military adviser, but her second in command.

"_I_'ve been under the impression the King Consort would join the Persian army in order to save my city _and_ defeat the Warlord. – Does that mean, the Persian army is _not_ going to help us?" she said through clenched teeth, all her nervousness was gone, vanished, replaced by an anger she did not understand. Why did it upset her so much to know that Dastan would fight – _of course, how else could it be?_ – right in the thick of the fight?

"My father and my brothers will stick to their word." Dastan said as he stepped into her field of vision and Tamina automatically fixed her angrily narrowed eyes on him, to see that he did not shake in fear under her aggravated glance angered her even more, "They will fight for Alamut, they will fight on our side.".

Tamina snorted contemptuously under her breath, but it was too low so that only Dastan and Asoka had heard, she fixed her hard glance on Dastan, her brown eyes turning to golden stones.

"And what if he won't act according to your assumptions? He may be cruel, but he is not as predictable as you think, and he is clearly not a fool – what if he foresees your trap, and attacks the Northern Gate instead?".

"Maybe, your Majesty, it is you who overestimates him – he is not as clever as you may think." Dastan answered, not feeling intimidated by her angered look at all. He just looked at her confident and thoughtful, his eyes never leaving her face.

"Well, he has attacked my city, _twice_ – and as I recall correctly, the Persians _haven't_ been able to defeat him _either_. Never underestimate your enemy, never overestimate your friends." she threw in, her words carrying the softness of pure venom, the smile on her lips harder than granite stone.

"What if he is _not_ fooled by your trap and breaches the city – what about the Dagger? We cannot know for sure that he is _not_ after that artefact.", Tamina had directed the question towards Asoka, it was Dastan, however, who stepped forward to take up the word again.

"The Dagger won't be in the city. It will be escorted out of the city, alongside the Acolytes and the women and children." he answered, and after a second he added quickly, "As you will be escorted out of the city, too.". Tamina's eyes went wide, she believed to have misheard his last words, but his serious look told her that he had meant what he'd just said.

"_Me?_" she asked sarcastically, her voice barely more than a whisper as she put her anger and shock into a word, trying to force it through her clenched teeth. Immediate silent fell upon the room, everyone went quiet while King and Queen stared at each other as if their eyes were fighting a duel of their own – the tension as thick you could have cut it. Tamina breathed heavily, anger flooded through her veins, at this precise moment she would have loved to yell at her Persian _Prince_ that she was not to be sent away like a helpless child. Right now, she understood very well why he'd avoided to meet her glance when they had walked to the council's meeting: he knew that she would never, under no circumstances, agree to a plan that forced her to leave her city (_she, the monarch and ruler, leaving the city!_) while he threw himself into the fight.

Of course, it made perfectly sense to leave the city, but her anger silenced the practical part of her thinking – she was so angry, she could not understand why she felt so angry? Naturally, Dastan was fighting, what else could she expect? But why, why did it outrage and upset her so much that she was to leave the city while he threw himself into danger, and possible death?

"You must understand, your Highness –", started an old councillor, who had dared to leave his place and stepped forth, he dared to interfere, breaking the deadly silence and drawing the attention of her lethal looks upon him, "It is a necessary precaution, your safety is much too precious – remember, your are the _last_ descendent of the House of Alamut and Alamut can _not_ afford to lose you."

Tamina stared at him for a few seconds longer than necessary before she drew her attention back to Dastan, their eyes met for a silent fight – she doubted not for a second that it had all been _his_ idea to get her out of the city. However, instead of jumping up and telling him a thing or two about loyalty or _women-in-men's-positions_, she simply swallowed down her pride, apparently agreeing to the set-up plan, though her last words appeared more than just stiff and forced.

"I see, obviously, you have had everything planned perfectly fine without me. So, thank you gentlemen, the council's over, you are all dismissed." she pressed through her clenched teeth while throwing another hard look back to Dastan, but he didn't even pretend to be intimidated by her threatening glares – he knew all too well, the real outburst was yet about to come.

* * *

><p>"You don't honestly expect me to leave my city, Dastan?" she asked ironically after they had returned to their chambers – it were the very first words she had gracefully directed at him (their way back to their room had been drenched in ice-cold silence) and her first words were spoken (how else could it be?) with anger and contempt.<p>

"In fact, I do. We are not going to argue about this, Tamina." he growled in return as he threw a look back at her, his nerves blank, his head full of concern and doubts, and anger – why, why did she _always_ have to fight him? Was it her very personal goal in life to make everything even harder for him? Or did she really not understand why he wanted her out of the city?

"Exactly, we are not going to argue about this – because I am NOT going!"

"The _hell_ you will! Even if I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you out myself!" he snapped back as he turned around in one single, swift movement, finally losing his temper as his words echoed through the chamber, much louder and aggressive than he had planned to. Tamina was immediately silenced, the shock written all over her face, though she looked as if she hard a time not to counter his outburst with her typical fighting spirit. Yet there was also something else, beside her usual angry sulking look, he could also detect an expression of unknown pain – _did he actually hurt her with his words?_

"I _can't_ have you in the city while the fight is going on, Tamina." he started again, his voice lower, calmer now, while he went to the little table beside their bed, giving himself a glass of wine – he didn't, _couldn't_, look at her while he added "I can't concentrate...I can't _fight_ when I don't know that you're save.". Dastan took a sip of wine, waiting, listening for any comments he was sure Tamina would make, but to his surprise it remained silent behind him – awfully quiet.

"So, now you _do_ leave me, Dastan."

The king of Alamut flung around, his face an expression of shock as he stared at his queen who stood only a few metres away from him and yet she appeared to be out of reach for him. Her words had been steady, almost calm, a statement rather than a question – her voice didn't shake, didn't show the tears that shined in her deep brown eyes.

"_Don't_ send me away. You cannot leave, you promised..." she started again, though her voice _did_ shook with emotion, now, and Dastan couldn't find the words, he was silenced by the feelings he saw reflected in her eyes. He could see that her whole body started to shiver, her chest heaving, the air coming to flat to give her new breath, and for one moment he feared that she might break down.

The way she looked at him made his throat tighten, she had never – _ever_ – looked at him like that, like she would fall down onto her knees, pleading, begging him not to leave her behind.

"Tamina..."

Dastan couldn't take it any longer, he walked towards her, only to see that she backed away, her body starting to shake even more, the tears now wetting her cheeks in watery lines. He stopped in his tracks while she looked at him, her eyes' expression a mixture of despair, longing and anger.

"You cannot leave me, you mustn't..." she insisted vehemently, shaking her head like a little child, not ready to make any compromises – she would not let him leave her, she would not let him go.

"I forbid you..." she sobbed angrily and yet so full of despair, Dastan approached her now without caring if she backed away, and Tamina, at last, did not twitch back from him this time. He took her face within his palms, making her look into his eyes, trying to bring her to reason again, trying to make her understand that no force in the world could make him leave her.

"Tamina..." he said softly, trying to express all his feelings and unsaid words through this moment, and when she yet again tried to raise her voice, he simply silenced her by capturing her lips in a kiss so passionate he felt her breathing falter under his mouth. For one second, she remained in a moment of shock, but then everything outside their embrace fell apart – she clung to him for dear life, as if he was all she had left, as if _he_ was her life.

Her soft lips responded fiercely to his kiss, and Tamina had always been fierce, passionate in every part of her life, and she kissed him now so hard it hurt, and yet it did not hurt enough – but she was determined, determined to make them, at least for a moment, forget that war dawned upon their love. She gave them both hardly any space to breathe, they breathed into each others mouth, feeding on the oxygen they gave each other. Her one hand was in his neck, in his hair, while her other hand pressed on his chest, she forced his lips apart by a power so sweet it made his knees go weak.

She pressed her body hard against his, letting him feel her body, wanted him to feel it, the warmth, the softness, every curve that was her. He growled deep in his throat when she rubbed herself against him, making him respond even _harder_ to her body, and he automatically wrapped his arms around her waist, keeping her pressed against him while he rolled his hips against her.

Dastan could hear her sigh under his lips while she eagerly sought to respond to his body against hers – he kissed her hard and wanting and the way she sighed and whispered his name under his lips made him shiver once more. He broke away, gasping, while he rested his head on her shoulder, his whole body was shaking, yearning for her touch, for the feeling of her pressed against him, of her being close to him.

He wanted her and yet wanted even more of her, he wanted to forget that in a few hours they would be parted, maybe even forever. A heavy shiver ran through his body while this thought stroke through his mind, and he closed his eyes, trying to calm down his heavy breathing, trying to suppress such thoughts. Tamina, meanwhile, started to place soft kisses all over his face, her lips softly touching his left ear, before she moved on to place tender kisses on his throat. She felt him shiver under her lips' touch – but she stopped immediately when began to speak.

"I love you, Tamina, do you _know_ that?"

"I know, Dastan.", his words had been barely more than a whisper, hoarse and low, and her own voice responded to it with the same expression of hardly containable emotions.

"I would do anything to come back to you, _anything_."

"Then come back to _me_, Dastan."

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><p>Dastan raised his head, just enough to look into her eyes, his lips levitating over hers, almost touching, but only almost. Tamina swallowed hard, feeling his breath washing over her face, just as a feather's touch, and immediately her glance fell down as her fingers came up just on their own accord. Her fingers shook violently as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt, even more because she felt his eyes on her, his look burning right through her, scorching her very soul.<p>

She could feel that he lowered his head rather than she really saw it, her fingers, though it was actually impossible, starting to shake even harder as he pressed his lips on her cheek, breathing a soft kiss on her sensitive skin. A heavy shiver ran through her whole body and she believed to feel him smile against her cheek. Then his lips wandered on and on, leaving her face, lowering down to her throat, his mouth felt hot and incredibly soft against her skin. She closed her eyes, shivering so heavy she could barely finish unbuttoning his shirt, however, she finally managed.

Dastan had to stop placing kisses all over her, however, when she urged the shirt over his head (the fabric vanished to fall somewhere on the floor), his hair was all mess and he looked at her through the thick strands of black hair while his arms sank down again. His large hands grabbed her arms with steel-like softness, pulling her closer to him, though this was hardly possible, their lips were only inches away now and the urge to feel them kiss again bordered on physical pain. His brown eyes, now darkened to pitch black stones, stared at her with an expression of hunger she hadn't known before, but it didn't make him appear greedy, it only emphasised his passion for her.

The Queen of Alamut felt her knees go weak by the way he looked at her.

She was so paralysed by his looks she noticed too late that _his_ fingers now started to unbutton _her_ dress – her glance fell down as her cheeks immediately started to burn. Her throat tightened and she squeezed her eyes shut, she felt the urge to say something, to say _it_, to say the words. His fingertips brushed over her upper breasts, far less accidentally than he tried to make her believe, while he unbuttoned his way down her dress. She felt her heart jump excitedly in her chest, the butterflies in her stomach made her believe she could fly and she heard those words again she had thought of so many times in her head. She opened her eyes and stared down at his hands which worked slowly but steadily, just as those hands had always served her, just as he had always done everything for her.

"I love you."

His fingers stopped immediately as her words had broken through the silence between them, he looked down at her face only to see that she met his glance. What he could read in her eyes was an expression of yearning, of desperation, and of fear. She was afraid that now he would push her away, that he would hurt her – that he would leave her. Like everyone else, she had loved, had done it. But he would never leave her. Dastan was touched by the sincerity he could read in her look, even more by the sincerity in her words, he had waited so long to hear her say those words, and they sounded even more beautiful than he'd imagined them to be.

He took her fragile face between his calloused palms, his brown eyes staring down into her look, letting his eyes tell her what she needed to believe, for words alone could never assure her of him belonging to her side. But she did believe in what she saw reflected in his eyes, it was undeniable -

she _saw_ herself in his eyes, like she was the only thing he could see, the centre of his existence.

Dastan lowered his head, gently pressing his lips upon hers, softly, sweetly, she opened her lips under his tender force – and just as their kiss grew stronger she felt his hands shoving the dress off her body, the fabric falling down to the floor, tickling her ankles. She shivered as his arms came around her, wrapping themselves around her (now naked) waist and pulling her even closer to him.

Her cool skin collided with his warm, almost hot flesh and she broke up the kiss, if only for a moment to catch her breath, before he reclaimed her lips again without mercy.

Slowly but steadily she lost her mind under his heated kisses, her small hands, now clenched to fists, grabbed the little hairs in his neck with a not so gentle force, but he didn't complain, and if he moaned, he didn't do because of pain. He had returned to breathe hot kisses on her throat, feeding on her scent, on the taste of her skin as if she was a drink of everlasting life, while his hands slowly abandoned her waist and grab her bum. She heard herself moan into his mouth, feeling his smile against her lips as his hands on her bottom urged her most sensible areas against his hard ones.

Difficult as it was she though managed it to lower her hands, her long, fine fingers opening his dark, leather trousers, slowly slipping them down before they sank down completely on their accord. When he now urged them together, nothing kept them apart any longer and she revelled in the feeling of skin on skin. She felt safe in his arms, protected, she felt loved.

Their feet slowly started to move backwards, they didn't dare to break up the kiss, and only the edge of the bed stopped them, her legs hit the frame of the bed and she felt herself giving in. She fell back, his arms around her, however, kept them together and so she sank down with him unto the bed rather than falling down. Dastan pushed her further up the bed until the lay almost in the middle of the sheets, he buried her under him, his hands framing her face and their lips finally came apart and they looked at each other – they simply looked at each other. His fingers caressed her face, his fingertips tracing soft lines on her skin as he looked down into her eyes, a look so deep that it went right though her, touching her very soul.

"I love you, Tamina." he whispered in a low, hoarse voice and just like every time he said those words it hit her hard enough to make her heart stop dead for a beat or two. However, now it did not scare her any longer. Her hands came up to caress his face and his eyes fell shut when her fingertips danced across his skin, seeing how he yearned for her touch, desiring it with every fibre of his body. It amazed her to experience that, it touched her, making the warm feeling in her stomach grow on and on, like a flame in the winter – twitching in the wind, but they both shielded the flame from the icy wind of the world with their hands, which were oh so naturally intertwined.

She slowly lifted her head to press her lips on his still closed eyes and she could feel him shiver under her touch, his arms sneaked under her body, wrapping themselves around her waist, pressing him against her while she wrapped her arms around his neck. His head fell in the crook of her neck, and so did hers, and there he could hear her whisper, she whispered his name, like a prayer. She told him that she loved him and he shivered heavily at the sound of those words coming out of her mouth.

After that, he slowly started to move his hips against her, soft, almost languidly circling movements against her and they both sighed at the sensations those movements brought them. It felt so natural, so completely natural when they finally came together, by his movements he slowly entered her and they held each other in this strong embrace while they both shuddered. Yes, it felt natural, warm and true, it felt right, safe, like home, like a family – they belonged together.

Dastan didn't start to move right now, for a moment it was enough for them to enjoy that feeling of being together, of being so close. It started slowly, again he moved his hips against her in soft, circling movements and they both breathed in hard at the sensation of the friction it created. Tamina, whose eyes fell shut, let her head fall down onto the pillows again and Dastan followed her lead and lowered his head to kiss her, and it was in the moment their lips met that his movements changed. He now pushed softly into her, her breathy sighs soft and muffled down under their gentle kiss. She kept her arms around his neck while he moved his arms away from her waist, placing them on either side beside her head, offering him a better angle – but her arms around him kept him close to her, she did not let go of him.

Their lips felt now more like being glued together, hot and fiery grew their kiss but this fire was nothing compared to the fire that spread between their bodies as he now moved more passionately above her. She could not tell what it was, but somehow there was a desperation in his tender, passionate movements she had not known before and maybe, yes maybe he just realised that this might be the last time ever for them to be together. Tamina now felt the desperation overpowering her, too, and started to meet him in his movements, trying to be as close to him as possible. She could hear him growl deep in his throat and then he propped up on his arms, lifting himself up, out of her lips' reach. Now it was her turn to moan deep and breathlessly as his movements changed to deep, slow thrusts, which made her shiver right down to the core of her thinking.

Tamina looked up and found herself being paralysed by the sight of him, his eyes were closed, his face almost distorted into a mask of pain, with his forehead frowned in concentration, trying to hold back. Had she not seen it before? How beautiful he truly was, or did she never wanted to see it? Was it maybe her love for him that made her finally see the fiery light that shone right though him?

All her thoughts, however, stopped in its tracks when he gave another slow, deep push, she moaned deep in her throat, for a moment loosing her breath and when she opened her eyes again she found him looking down at her.

She had never before seen that look in his eyes, never before had he looked at her with such an expression, was it love, or desire? Was it despair, or hope? He stared at her as if he had just seen her for the very first time, as if he could not believe that she was real, that she was his', truly and irreversibly. Never had she thought of being looked at with such an amazement, such an adoration – she had been used to men looking at her, but this, this was different. It went deeper, it felt true, and no words could have given breath to her feelings rights, and so she remained silent.

She lifted her arms, her hands taking his face into her palms, and he bended down to kiss her, sweetly, softly, and it was so very much like the first kiss they had ever shared. His hands slowly took her hands and pushed them slightly over her head, he started to move again, slow, deep thrusts that resembled the slow, sensual dance of their lips. Desperate to be even closer to him, she wrapped her legs around his hips; immediately a heavy shiver ran through their bodies, down from their toes up to their fingertips. Their finger intertwined, pressed together so hard they must break: they could never be parted again.

She could hear him breathe hard and helpless above her, he voiced growls and low moans that mixed with her breathy sighs – he had broken up the kiss, couldn't maintain it any longer, whatever strength he'd had was leaving him. He had laid with her so many times and yet this felt different, it went so much deeper, it was much more intense. He couldn't bear the tension she created, couldn't bear the way she made him feel – it was too much, too strong, too intense, and yet he longed for it.

He had lost his rhythm and moved now helplessly above her, he desperately yearned for his release, he could hardly breathe any more, he felt like he was going mad, she was driving him out of his mind, she gave him a bliss too much to hold.

Under him she breathed and sighed, her low whimpers encouraged him, and he could feel the same tension in her body that maddened him, too. All of the sudden, then, he let go of her hands, his arms sneaking under her body, wriggling themselves around her slim waist again, he pressed her body against him, keeping her in place. He felt her reaction immediately change, her sighs changed into cries and moans while his movements quickened now. And then came the moment that felt like a whole eternity. His arms around her waist appeared to lift her up while she tried to hold on to him as best as she could, bliss, pure, warm, bright bliss shook them, voiced in their cries and moans. Their embrace became even harder, they sought to hold onto each other, trembling under the sweet pain, under the feeling of being lifted from the ground. They lost themselves in this feeling of complete satisfaction, of utter bliss, of pure deep love – and they lost themselves into each other.


	15. Chapter 15

Hey, mates, I'm soooo sorry it took me so long. I just had had so much to do. Hopefully, this will make up for me taking my time.

Besides that, I must say though, that this is the end. Really. I just want to say thank you to all who followed this story so loyally. Your reviews kept me writing, mates. You were my muse. Thank you so much.

I won't promise, I'll never write a PoP FanFic again. It might happen. Apart from that, I have other fics to focus on now - you might even want to check it out. ^^

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><p><strong>15. The King and His Queen<strong>

Tamina sighed heavily while she allowed her glance to drift off and wander around, she looked over her shoulder until it fixed upon Dastan. He lay in the bed, lying on his stomach, his face half buried in his pillow, while some of his thick hair strands fell into his face. The blanket reached only up to his hips, shielding his still naked body from her view while leaving the rest of him uncovered. He was still fast asleep, and he looked so innocent as he lay there in the sheets, so vulnerable. He looked peaceful – but she could not find peace.

Her eyes darted back to the balcony, she could see that the sun was just about to rise, a dawn was to be born, promising the blood that soon was to be shed. The thought sent a heavy shiver down her spine and she closed her eyes in order to suppress such thoughts. She clung to the hope, it was their only defence and she had to trust in it, she had to trust in him, that he would come back to her. Behind her eyelids, while she tried to calm her wild thoughts, her mind wandered back to what had happened last night. Sudden memories flashed through her mind, too quick to hold them, the soft touch of calloused fingertips, heavy breaths mouthing kisses and promises, joy overlaying the despair of a coming dawn...

After a moment she opened her eyes, her mind as clear as the chilly morning and slowly she stood up, leaving the bed behind. She went to get dressed, from time to time she threw a look over her shoulder, making sure that Dastan was still asleep, listening whenever he moved in the bed. She clothed herself in simple, linen trousers and a thin, silken tunic, both of beige colour, rounding it up with a warming, dark brown scarf, big enough to shield yourself from the sun in the desert. Tamina had made her choice, she had decided to trust him, completely, this time she wouldn't doubt him, she wouldn't defy him – this time, she would trust him to come back to her.

She looked into the mirror, staring at the reflection in the mirrored glass that looked back at her – around her neck she could see the necklace her mother had once possessed and naturally her fingers came up, caressing the cold metal. She had never given much thought to why her mother hadn't left Alamut when the city had been under attack – she remembered fairly well her father telling her mother to leave, but she had refused. All those years she had made herself believe her mother had only stayed because of the Dagger, but last night had told her otherwise. The love her parents had shared for one another had always been to big, had gone too deep for her to really understand it – she had never wanted to see more in the act of her father trying to get the Dagger by killing her. She had only ever wanted to see it as an act of desecration, of him violating the law of the Gods. But she understood now, he had been willing to kill his only child for a piece of hope, for the chance to get his beloved wife back.

Tamina understood now, she had lost her child and it had destroyed her, and against all her upbringing, against everything she had been taught all her life, she had wanted to change the course of the past and of the future, she had been willing, too, to desecrate the holiest of all hallows, and to defy the Gods. It had been love that would have made her violate the most important rule in her life, and it had been love, too, that had kept her from doing so. She knew that, now, she accepted it, she was no longer afraid of facing the feelings that drew her towards Dastan. Yet it were those feelings, now, that made it so impossibly hard for her to get along with his decision. The thought alone of leaving him, now – now that she had finally plucked up the courage to let herself be loved and to love – made her breathing go uneasy.

She feared that he could not be true to his promise, she feared that he might never return to her, she feared that, now, after she had opened her heart to him, his death would make her vulnerable, her heart would be shattered once more, battered and scarred by the wounds that love might cause it. It had been those thoughts and fears that had kept her awake all night, these nightmares had been the reason why she dwelt awake and concerned in the setting of dawn. Tamina lowered her head with a heavy sigh, finally forcing her look away from the person that stared at her out of the mirrored glass. Her eyes wandered on until they stopped all of the sudden in its tracks, fixing upon the Sword of Alamut, which hung at its rightful place on the wall.

She stared at the Sword, taking in all the engravings on the shining blade, and automatically she felt her fingers tingling with the need to grasp the sword, to feel its weight, listening to the melody it made when it glided through air. She had never been a fighter, she had always been a diplomat, she was the personification of Alamut, however, she knew how to fight, she did not know how to give up, that, also, made her the personification of her city's very soul. Slowly she walked to wards the artefact on the wall, the light of new born sun was reflected in the metal, its shining seeking out to blind her, but she did not twitch back. Her small fragile hands came up and grasped the sword, removing it from its place, and immediately her mind remembered this moment when she had taken up the sword to defend her city, just like her father had done it.

Then, all of the sudden, the hairs in her back stood up and she felt a strange chill running down her back, and she just knew that she was being watched. She turned around instantly, only to find Dastan looking at her. He was still lying on the bed, still lying on his stomach, the sheets barely reaching up to his hips, and his head still half buried in the pillow. But his eyes were opened, looking at her bright and clear with a thoughtful expression. He was just staring at her and she was just staring back. Silence. Tamina wondered what he was thinking, his eyes didn't give any of his thoughts away – did he perhaps believe she would again defy him and stay in the palace? Or perhaps he was thinking about the coming goodbye, about the possibility that this was likely the last moment they would ever share together?

"Tamina..." he started with his low, rough voice and she shivered by the way he said her name, he always managed it to arose those complex feelings by just simply saying her name. She felt the lump in her throat, the increasing tension, the knowledge that they soon would be separated – the Gods only knew for how long. Tamina closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to calm herself before she opened her eyes again and pulled herself together.

"You should get dressed." she replied almost harshly as she cut him off, her voice thin and shaky – she couldn't look him in the eyes, "It'll be time soon.".

Dastan stared at her for another long moment, trying to read the expression in her eyes, trying to figure out what might be going on in her mind right now, but after a few seconds he finally gave into her demand and got up. He rose up, throwing the blanket off his still naked body and immediately his eyes wandered to Tamina, who didn't look away, her eyes met his look, and it was one of such silent expressions that could say more than a thousand words. Dastan broke up their eye contact and picked up his dark leather trousers, he took on his trousers, then his boots, and walked over to the stand of his leathery armour. Behind himself he could here a low, rustling noise but he didn't turn around to see what it was, as a matter of fact, he only turned around when he felt Tamina's soft, cool fingers on his wrist.

Dastan turned around only to find Tamina looking at him intensely, her dark brown gaze fixed upon him in a deep, melancholic way that may his throat tighten. She had left the Sword of Alamut to lie on the table next to their bed and now her cool hands, which had held the blade only moments ago, took the armour out of his'. She was silent and thoughtful while she helped him to put on his protective leather, layer upon layer, her cool fingers brushing his warm skin every now and then.

Dastan, who was silent, too, enjoying the last moments of them being together, he caressed her cheek with his one hand while he looked down at her. She looked sad, deeply sunken in her thoughts and maybe she just didn't pluck up the courage to look up and meets his eyes.

"Don't expect me to cry for you." she whispered stubbornly, but her voice sounded strangely weird, so thin and strained. He cupped her face in his palms and by doing so he forced her to meet his look and now he could see that she – his Queen of Alamut – _was_ actually crying. Dastan smiled sadly – of course, she was unable to forget her pride even just for one moment – as he looked down at her, tenderly holding her face in his hands, as if it was the most precious thing in this world for him. As her eyes stared into his', the smile on his lips slowly faded and he swallowed hard by the genuine concern he read in her look.

It felt perfectly natural when they slowly closed the distance between them and came together in a tight, warm embrace, her face was pressed against his chest, muffling down the sobs she didn't want him to hear, and he could feel her small little fists clutching hard and desperate in his leathery armour as if she still tried to prevent him from leaving her. His strong arms around her held her close to him, he let her listen to his still steady and lively heartbeat, letting it calm her, reassuring her of his intend to stick to his promise.

Suddenly he felt her move in his arms, she stood on her toes while she leant into him, bringing her lips close to his ears as she whispered her last order she would ever give him.

"Come back to me.", and with those words she wriggled herself out of his arms and took his face in her hands and she pressed her lips so hard against his that he forgot how to breathe, every thought was immediately burned out of his mind, his arms tried to grab her, trying to hold her close to him –

But then, all of the sudden she was gone, she turned around and left him there, standing as she walked towards the door, grabbing the Sword of Alamut while she passed the little table next to their bed.

She threw the door open and walked outside.

She did not look back.

He looked after her until she vanished from his field of vision, and it was then when it finally hit him, that this might have been the last time he'd ever see her.

* * *

><p>Tamina turned around to her city, which was now about a mile or two away, and Alamut still looked as if no storm could ever destroy it. The white marble-like towers that glistened epically in the sun, the palace with his soft colours, comfy chambers, homely atmosphere, the streets with their turbulent and vivid voices, the spicy smells and light scents of spring and flowers. The Queen of Alamut stared at her city, at her <em>home<em>, from a spot that seemed now so far away, and yet it would have been no problem for to just run back. But she couldn't, she knew she could not go back.

Tamina swallowed hard as she averted her eyes from the city and resumed to follow the caravan, consisting of the whole covenant of the Guardian, its priests and priestesses, its young Acolytes, plus all the women and children that had left Alamut to seek refuge in the Secret Guardian Temple. The Dagger of Time burnt at her side, reminding at why she had to leave her home. The Dagger had to be protected, her _house_ had to be protected – this she had been taught all her life: Protect the Dagger, Secure your _house_, for Alamut can not live on without its rightful ruler.

She knew fool well, the only reason why she had to leave her city was that she hadn't yet fulfilled her most important duty – secure her succession, offering Alamut a new ruler, continuing her line.

Tamina swallowed down the bitter tears as the pain struck sharply through her chest, but she ignored the memories of a lost child while her thoughts wandered back to her family's history.

For hundreds of years, and generations of her family, Alamut had been ruled only by monarchs of the bloodline of the First Guardian – a mere superstition born out of pride, really, but it was believed that there was something _divine_ in her family's blood, since the day the Gods had spared her ancestor's life. They said, the mercy of the Gods still lived on in their descendants. It still lived on in her – and it was to be expected that she would pass it on...and on...and on.

The bloodline of her house had never been broken, yet.

Tamina swallowed hard and she pushed away those thoughts, subconsciously fastening her pace in order to keep up with her fellow Guardians, who barely paid attention to her Queen, so lost in thoughts. She looked over to the youngest of her covenant, the children of her city, future of Alamut. They looked so fragile, so helpless, scared even, not knowing where fate would lead them, unsure when – or _whether_ – they would ever see their home again. Driven by this thought, she felt the immediate urge to turn around, but she ignored the desire to see her home again and walked on.

She had just left her home and yet the wish to turn around and see it again burnt so hard in her chest she could hardly breathe.

However, there was a voice in her head, though she tried to shut it off, that screamed at her that it was not her home she yearned for. It weren't those marble floors, the vivid and loud bazaars, the high temples and bright colours, the little voice in her head, coming from her heart, whispered now that she actually yearned for something else within that city. _Or for someone else._

Tamina stopped in her tracks, she kept her head down and her eyes shut, so that none of her people would see the tears that burnt in her eyes, her little hands were clenched to fists, shaking with emotions too deep to ignore them any longer. She hissed sharply under her breath, trying to calm herself down, but it was pointless. It didn't matter that he had promised to return to her. She felt that it was wrong – and what fool would ever believe he could silence its own heart's wish?

"Your Highness?", Tamina slowly looked up when an old Councillor addressed her, he peered at her with deep concern in his elderly, wrinkled eyes – was he really concerned about her or what she might do?

Meanwhile, all the other members of their little caravan had stopped and turned around to face her, she could recognise that each and everyone of them looked at her with the same concerned expression. The Dagger of Time burnt at her side and she knew what was expected of her, she knew that she as their Queen, as the _last_ descendant of the _House_ of Alamut, that she _had to_ survive, that she had to lead them to safety, promising a life beyond this war. She knew it was expected of her to be a Queen, but not a woman.

However, there it was again, that little voice in her head, coming from her heart, screaming at her, shouting, whining, demanding, and she knew that she was no longer the person she had been all those months ago. No, she was no longer the Guardian, the High Priestess, the divine symbol without a heart, she was no longer their Queen without a heart – she was a woman, a human being, and she could no longer fight feelings common to every human being. She knew what she wanted now, she knew her path and she no longer feared to tread it.

Tamina swallowed hard, for a moment unsure of what to do, not knowing what to say, unsure of what the right words might have been in such a situation. She slowly moved forward and ignored the stares of the men and women around her while she approached one of the Acolytes. The young girl, barely older that nine summers – barely older than she had been when she had lost her whole family – looked up at her with big, curious eyes. She smiled down at the girl and slowly got to her knees, she fingered the Dagger of Time out of her clothes and now the girl's eyes went even larger as she understood now what her Queen was about to ask of her.

Slowly the girl took a step backwards, raising her hands in defence, fear had filled those once innocent eyes, but Tamina only smiled at her. She took the girl's small hands and symbolically put the Dagger into her hands, the young Acolyte stared down at the mythical blade in her hands, moments passed and then, then she finally closed her fingers around the handle and accepted the gift and her new duty. Tamina looked down at the young girl, all those emotions reflected in those little, blue eyes – fear, hope, pride – and for one moment, she saw herself in that little girl, full of ideals and full of doubts.

The Queen of Alamut rose up again, she looked around – as all of the others did – when she suddenly heard the first sounds of fighting, of bloodshed, of war. The city was under attack, the Warlord had come and she knew whatever choice she made now she could not run away from its consequences. Tamina swallowed hard before she averted her eyes from the sight of her home again and for the last time turned around to her fellow Guardians, to her people.

She knew they wouldn't need her to find the hiding place, all Guardians knew how to find the path that led them to the Secret Guardian Temple. And she knew that Alamut would still live on, even if their Queen was gone, even if her _House_ had failed and the bloodline was broken – Alamut would still live on. For it was not she or her _house_ nor the Dagger who were Alamut, it were the _people_, her _people_, and as long as they lived on, Alamut lived on.

* * *

><p>There was a deep, heavy silence in the air, and nothing, not even the sharp, hot wind, could break it, and they all felt the weight of this silence, sinking in, drowning them, filling them. Tamina took a deep breath, before she turned around in one single, swift movement and started running like she had never done before in her whole life. The screams and shouts of her people, who tried to stop her, barely reached her ears while she rushed towards her city, the once marble white stones now lit in a cruel reddish light. She could fairly well hear the sounds coming from her city, screams and cries of fighting, of defiance, of dying, it were the sounds of war and soon those noises deafened her for all the other things in this world.<p>

The Queen of Alamut tried to run faster but her short legs never seemed to bring her closer to the city, it only appeared to distance itself more and more from her, like it enjoyed to play so cruelly with her desperate wish to return, as if the city itself had become alive and denied her the return.

She could soon feel the tears of her angry desperation on her cheeks but she ignored them, even as they blurred her vision, she could feel the pain in her sides as a result of her running, but she ignored it, she felt the fire in her lungs every time she drew breath, but she paid no attention to it.

The Sword of Alamut hit against her left thigh with every step as if it yearned for another chance to be drawn for blood and glory, another moment to save her city. But she did not yearn for the fight, no, on the contrary, her heart beat faster out of fear for the coming terror she would face.

Yes, she was afraid, her pulse racing with light speed, her heart beating so fast, so loud she thought its noise must overlay the sounds of the battlefield, giving away her return. However, she did not simply fear the fight, she did not only fear for herself. Although she had hardly any breath left to breathe, she continuously uttered silent prayers under her breath; she prayed to all the Gods she knew, prayed for her city, for her people's safety – and above all, she prayed for the mercy to see him again.

It felt like a whole eternity, a whole life spent on running, until she finally reached the Western Gate, but she did not walk through it, however, she chose another path, looking for the secret trap door that led into the bazaar in the heart of her city. She was her city's Queen after all, she knew all the secrets Alamut had to share. In her panic to get into the city and her fear of what she might face there, it took her almost unnaturally long to finally find the bloody door – however, she managed it.

With all the might she had left she threw the door open, and took a deep breath (and looked around once again) before she stepped inside, closing the door behind herself.

For a moment she stood in complete darkness, too thick to be penetrated by any light or sound, but then her eyes slowly accustomed to the darkness and carefully followed the myriads of paths, which coursed under the city, unbeknownst to most of his inhabitants. Although the underground paths and corridors were feet and feet under the city's grounds she could not miss the strong smell of smoke sweat and blood. The sounds of battle echoed through the massive stone wall above her head, though they sounded strangely dull and muffled.

Now that she was alone, and could breathe normally again, her thoughts came back to the question of what she planned on doing, after all, those paths had to end at some point and she would have to face the surface. Tamina swallowed hard while her left hand subconsciously grasped the handle of the Sword of Alamut, but it did not confide her as expected, it rather re-inflamed her fears. Would she be able to defend herself? Or would she lose everything, including her life? Would she even lose him? What would be the consequences of her fatal decision?

Far too soon she reached the next trap door that, being over her head, would lead her straight to the middle of the bazaar. Above her she could hear the sounds of fighting, now sounding not so muffled down any longer, but almost clear, telling of the fight that roared in the streets over her head. The Queen felt her heart race wildly in her chest, her breathing going fast and shallow, in fear her fingers gripped the handle of her sword so hard her knuckles turned white, her mouth felt oddly dry.

Tamina closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, she knew fool well she could not stay in here forever, she only had the chance to go ahead, she knew she must face whatever awaited her in the streets above. Strangely, the inevitability of her situation even comforted her, it took away some of her fear, making her accept and realise that whatever choice she had made in the past months had brought her here. The Queen of Alamut slowly opened her eyes again, ready to face her destiny as she pushed open the door above her head and stormed outside.

* * *

><p>At first the light of the sun was too sharp, too bright for her eyes, since she had stayed for quite a while in the darkness of the tunnels and passages under the streets of Alamut, and for a moment the sudden invasion of light blinded her eyes. However, her ears still worked as good as ever and so she did hear the movements on the ground, and the wild, fast breathing as the man approached her.<p>

She drew her sword just in time to parry his strike, her eyes sprang open and she looked at her opponent for only a second before she pushed him away, bringing as much space between him and herself as possible. He grinned at her with a mouth that missed more teeth than were left (and even the remaining teeth resembled more black stumps than real teeth) and his eyes told her that she appeared to him as a proper weak, defenceless victim.

She was not sure but his face reminded her at something or somebody. It was his grin, after all, that made her realise who he was. Just as if it had been yesterday, she remembered the messenger Koshkan had sent back then, the man who had once offended her beyond any apologies. She remembered the promise she had given him back then – _to kill him no matter what_ – and she snorted contemptuously in her thoughts, as she raised her sword, determined to whip that evil, lustful grin off his face and show him that in contrast to her looks she was rather a grim fighter.

Tamina lurched forward, the sword raised and held up high as she swung it at the men who just grinned contemptuously and parried her strike like she was nothing but a little boy with a wooden sword. However, she hadn't intended on landing a good hit with her sword anyway. As he parried her strike, he pushed both their swords aside, leaving his right side unprotected, and it was in this moment that Tamina drew out the little knife – the very knife that had once slit her father's throat – and rammed it inside his right side.

The man yelped in pain, jumping away from her, his face covered in agonising pain as he desperately clutched his side, red blood shining between his fingers. He tumbled backwards, breathing hard and flat while he slowly and with a howling growl pulled the knife out of his side. The blade was saturated in a reddish colour that glistened threateningly in the bright sunshine, but she had only a moment to look at it, before he threw it on the ground, the red blood on the knife's blade soiled up with sand. As he looked up his eyes bore a colour of the darkest rage. Tamina swallowed hard, her throat tightening, she felt her fingers automatically taking a harder grip on the sword in her hands.

The man stared at her for a moment, swaying a little from side to side, the sword he had held up high before was now lowered, the blade's top helplessly dragged across the sand as he powerlessly approached her. However, when he was right in front of her he suddenly raised his sword with a loud, wild scream, swinging the sword at her as if he hadn't been stabbed by her only minutes ago, moving so fast she could barely parry his strike. Their swords crossed and they leaned with their whole weight against each other, trying to force the other one to retreat; Tamina narrowed her eyes at the determined look he shot back at her. With a moan of exhaustion she pushed him away from her, and again he tumbled several feet backwards, and again he stopped only to attack her again.

_For a dying man he was _bloody_ persistent._

He ran back towards her, now swinging his sword wildly at her, trying to hit her, the aim of a desperate, impatient man. Meanwhile, the blood poured out of the wound at his side, drop by drop by drop, leaving traces in the sand. Tamina twitched automatically back from him, not so much out of fear now, but to see him now, weak and wounded and desperate she actually felt pity for him. She felt her hands starting to shiver, feeling how her own morales started to work against her better judgement – every life was _sacred_, after all, every life. She had never learned to kill, she had only learned to fight; and he was no longer a threat to her – he was barely able to hold his sword any more. _She could not kill him._

Tamina, torn between her upbringing as a Guardian and her instincts, she slowly lowered her sword subconsciously, looking at the man in front of her, who stared disparagingly at her, with all the hatred and rage he had left. For a moment he was unsure of what to do, he looked from her eyes down to the lowered sword and back up to her. He understood, she could literally see the realisation hitting him, mirrored in his eyes. His breath came hard and flat, exhaustion had marked him badly, and it was clear he could not win this fight. It was a strange situation, for neither of them could back away – _trust could not be won within mere seconds_ – and neither of them could attack, may it be out of morale or out of simply pragmatic reasons.

And then, the decision was made. It all happened too fast. She had no time to think, no time to make a final decision, no time at all to listen to her conscience – she only had time to react. Against all better judgement, and ignoring his deadly wound, the man stormed at her again with his sword held up high, but Tamina was ready, acting on pure instincts. She raised her sword just in the right moment, she parried his strike, and by doing so she pushed both their swords aside, however, he had not time to raise his sword for another attack.

She was not wounded, she was younger than him, she was quicker, more agile; and with a fast blow she led a last strike against him, the sound of metal cutting through flesh, living, breathing flesh was the only thing that gave proof of her victory. Yet she did not feel triumph as she looked down at the man, his eyes still widened in shock and pain, frozen in the moment of his death; she could not bear the dead man's look, she could not bear what she saw in it, she could not bear her own reflection in his now dead eyes.

She could not recognise herself any longer.

* * *

><p>Tamina pulled the blade out of the dead flesh that had been a human being only moments ago when her attention was caught by shouts of men, coming from all around her, however, these shouts sounded a lot friendlier than anything else she had heard before on this battlefield.<p>

"Our Queen! Our Queen had returned to us!", she looked up when she heard the shouts of her men, she looked around, every now and then catching glimpses of encouraging smiles – was this her doing, had she given them hope, and courage to go on? Though the fights continued nonetheless, she felt the pairs of a million eyes fixed upon her, and every time she heard the shouts of her men she looked up – but she was not the only who was being irritated by the calls.

Dastan, standing on top of the wall together with the archers and stone throwers, commanding his men to stand their ground, shouting new orders, looked up as well when he heard the first men voicing their surprise and joy at the sight of their Queen who had returned to fight – _and possibly die or triumph_ – at their side. He looked around, scanning the ground of the courtyard, uttering pleas under his breath that she couldn't possibly be so stupid to come back, and then, then he spotted her right in the middle of the fight.

Aggravated he cursed under his breath and it was as though she had heard him, for in that exact instant she turned around to him, their eyes meeting for the merest glimpse of a moment. She looked frightened, yet there was a confidence in her eyes that just did not belong on a battlefield.

Her figure looked strangely fragile in the midst of the struggle, quite a contrast to the stubborn woman he had come to know, her bright clothes distinguished her even more from the rest of the men fighting. Dastan knew it was only a matter of time until _someone_ recognised her, and he knew he had no time left to get her safely out of here. Nonetheless, he stepped forward, all the fighting that had been going on was dropped out of his mind, as everything he could focus on now was to ensure her safety. But then –

"The Queen! Take her down! _Take her down_!", the shouts now came from a completely different direction and both Dastan's and Tamina's heads sprung around in the same moment, the air felt like it had been suddenly pushed out of their lungs as their eyes widened in shock and sudden realisation: Koshkan, the feared Warlord, had spotted her. Shock held them both in their firm, iron grip as they watched him draw closer, spurring his white horse on, heading straight towards Tamina.

It was then her, _not Dastan_, who first forced herself out of her shocked trance. She slowly stumbled backwards, breathing fast, hard and flat, until her steps were stopped by the corpse at her feet and without thinking she bent down and picked up the knife, that had taken the man's life only minutes ago. She looked up only once more before she turned at her heels and ran like the devil himself was at her feet, and Dastan watched in agony and despair how Koshkan came after her.

The air burnt like fire in her lungs as she ran and ran, her muscles screaming in pain and protest, yet she did not stop. Her life depended on it and she did not need to look around to assure herself of that fact. The thoughts raced wild and quick through her mind, she needed to think of something smart soon, she needed to get out of here. She should _never_ have come back. It had been a mistake – was she now bound to pay for it?

Tamina was torn out of her thoughts when an arrow, sharp and deadly only missed her by mere inches and she shrieked back, coming to a halt immediately. She turned around to see Koshkan riding towards her, on his tail following a bunch of what looked like mercenaries, but nonetheless skilled archers on horseback. She ducked instinctively as another arrow was shot in her direction.

_This was it._ The thought raced wild and angry through her mind, and she did not know exactly where it had come from, but she knew, she, Tamina, Queen of Alamut, was not born to run away - and if this was her fate, she would meet it head-on, with her sword ready to strike back.

* * *

><p>Tamina breathed hard, the air coming short and flat as she looked at the man standing opposite her, only a few feet away, he was panting just as she was, and just as she did he dared to call himself king – but in contrast to him, <em>she<em> deserved the title. She raised her sword again, forcing her breathing to calm down again, as she prepared herself for another attack, though the man only laughed at her with eyes as cold as the desert's icy nights.

"Foolish, little girl – have you not learned your lesson yet?"

"Have I not kicked your ass enough yet, _Old man_?" she spat back at him, rejoicing in the delight to whip that grin off his face; he growled deep in his throat, his body tensing again, preparing his next attack. Tamina swallowed hard as the Warlord came for her again, her hands, though sweaty out of blank fear, kept a firm grip on the sword she raised in defence. She had fought against this so-called for only a few minutes, though it felt like a couple of hours, and maybe, just maybe this time, her feeling was just right.

She knew she could not defeat him; she had learned to fight, yes, but that did not make her a fighter after all, for she had only learned to defend herself, and though she was determined to make him pay for all the wrongs he had done and pains he had caused, she did know that she was unable to do so. _Gods_ helped her, she was barely able to hold her sword any longer and he just kept coming at her like exhaustion did not apply to him. Strike after strike after strike, each and every one of them harder and meaner than the one before and she was barely able to parry them.

However, she did not retreat. No, she would not run any more. She would not give up. Whatever would happen to her, she would not give up. She would not beg for her life. Even if he killed her, that triumph she would not grant him.

Tamina saw his sword coming towards her and she raised her blade just in time to parry his blow, however, with the force he had put into this strike he simply pushed the sword out of her hands and simultaneously threw her to the ground. As she hit the sandy ground, the bounce hit the air out of her lungs and coughed in pain, but she was pulled out of her momentary confusion when she felt the sand under her body vibrate. Foot steps drawing closer to her. Shock gripped and she turned around to look at her living nightmare, the monster that had tormented her in her dreams since she had been a little girl. The evil grin on his lips awoke all those memories in her she had fought to forget all those years ago.

She saw her brothers fall, their dead eyes staring at her; she saw her mother scream in pain, fighting helplessly against the men above her, her screams slowly fading as the flames consumed her; and her father, whose hands lurched forward to kill her.

_She was lost. She was alone. She would die._

The Warlord raised his sword to end her shattered life and Tamina closed her eyes, accepting her fate as her last thought brought the only face into her mind she knew she would ever miss.

* * *

><p>However, the anxiously awaited blow never came and so she opened her eyes again to see the reason for her postponed death sentence. Whatever she had expected to see, it was not that, and the shock hit her with a force she could not bear. Dastan stood in front, his back turned towards her while he faced Koshkan, the sword she had lost – the Sword of Alamut – raised in his hands. He had come for her. He had stepped between her and their greatest threat. He had come back for her. He had kept his promise.<p>

Tamina could see how the expression on the Warlord's face changed from triumphant to aggravated, he obviously hadn't expected the things to turn out just like that, but nevertheless he faced his new opponent with the same arrogant mask he had worn for her before. He attacked with a loud war scream that made her startle out of fear and disgust, but she could not avert her eyes from her enemy. She felt the need to watch him. She had to know. She had to witness this. She must not look away. The Warlord was so sure, so sure of his coming siege, his whole body language spoke of it, screaming his own superiority at his enemy.

Dastan, on the contrary – though she could not see his face – appeared much more confined, his moves were slower, he almost appeared still, completely calm, not relaxed, but his body gave away that this was his true nature. Tamina had never seen him fighting before, she always believed him to be big and rough when it came to fighting, but the way he moved spoke of an elegance and skill that amazed and scared her alike. He was not a soldier, he was a fighter, a true warrior.

He was _her_ warrior.

Tamina was suddenly torn out of her thoughts when she heard Dastan scream in agony, her heart instantly stopped dead for a beat or two, she did not want to look, did not want to see her worst nightmare coming to life. She could not lose him. He mustn't die. _He had promised._

Dastan tumbled backward and she could see now blood trickling from a cut on his left arm, the cut appeared not to be deep, but nonetheless the loss of blood weakened him. She struggled to get to her feet, not caring that she was unarmed and no use to him right now, she could not sit here and watch him get slaughtered right in front of her eyes. Both Dastan and Koshkan were distracted by her sudden reappearance, their head swung to the side – the eyes of Warlord narrowed in wild anger, while the eyes of the King widened in fear. In that moment, Tamina did not know if her move had been the biggest (and last) mistake in her life or the smartest manoeuvre ever happened unplanned.

Koshkan, enraged by the very sight of her, raised his sword now storming at her, his eyes merely focused on her, and she could read her own death flashing in his eyes. Then, from one moment to another, his eyes widened in shock and pain, he stopped in his tracks and Tamina, breathing hard and uneasy, tried to understand what had just happened. It was then that she saw the top of a blade that had found its way through the Warlord's flesh, red milk soiling his clothes as he fell down at his knees.

Tamina looked up as Dastan pulled the sword out, on his face was an expression full of hatred and disgust, the King did not look at his Queen, he was not yet finished with his enemy. He knew there was one last thing to do, one last thing to end all of this. He slowly came around until he stood right in front of the Warlord, Koshkan was still alive, though the breath of life was leaving him slowly but steadily, he was still alive. Death had not yet been granted to him. Dastan took a deep breath as he raised his sword, but he waited, waited for his enemy to look up.

However, just as he was about to make the final strike, he felt a cool hand on his arm, gently holding him back and hit with surprise he turned around to be faced with Tamina. But she was not looking at him, she was only staring at the Warlord, at Koshkan, the one man, who had taken everyone from her, who had taken everything from her, everything, except her worst memories, except her worst nightmares. And it where those nightmares, those memories of seeing her loved ones die and despair that made her take the Sword of Alamut out of Dastan's hands.

She approached Koshkan with a cool and unreadable expression in her deep brown eyes, he did not twitch back – couldn't have done it anyway – at the sight of his worst victim coming to bring death upon him. Maybe he thought she would not have the stomach to do it, she was just a woman after all, a little scared girl – she was not her father, she was not a king, not a true monarch. Tamina stopped right in front of him and as he looked up to her, she recognised something like fear in his once arrogant eyes for the first time, but she may have been fooled again.

"Foolish little girl – no man has ever conquered me!" he spat out, along with a bunch of drops of his own dirty blood; Tamina only stared back at him, a million emotions flashing through her eyes, anger, hatred, pity and shame. She stared at him for what felt like an eternity, before she bent down to whisper the very last words into his ears he would ever hear on this earth.

"I am no man."

And with those words she ran him through with the Sword of Alamut, the Sword of her forefathers, her Sword and finally his eyes closed forever and with him her nightmares died.

* * *

><p>It was done. She could feel it. He could feel it. The weight of what felt like a thousand years of worries, pains and fear simply fell off them, and instantly they breathed easier. Tamina slowly turned around to him, an awestruck expression written all over her face as if she could not yet realise what had just happened. She let go off the Sword of Alamut, let it fall down to the ground. Its work had been done. Dastan stared at her, torn between the wish to pull into his arms' embrace and the need to give her a good drubbing for putting him in such agonising dread. However, he settled instead on saying the very first thing that came into his mind.<p>

"Did I not tell you to leave?", the words came out harder than he had intended to, but he couldn't help it, worry had worn him out, fear and pain had nearly killed him today, the thought of losing her had nearly killed him – seeing her now standing here in front of him, alive and safe, his heart was overwhelmed with happiness and joy, yet the anger welled up inside him. He could not control his emotions right now, it had been too much.

Tamina stared at him for a very, very long moment as he waited for her to say something, and her continuous silence nearly drove him mad, but then she finally responded, though not in the way he had expected. Without saying a single word, Tamina approached him with secure steps and simply hugged im as passionately as he had never believed a hug could be. Her body was shaken with emotion and for an instant he gave into her embrace, his arms coming around, keeping her in his arms, revelling in the joyous feeling of her living, breathing, warm body in his arms. They had defeated death once again, and they rejoiced life while they clung to each other, unconscious of the new life that rejoiced in her. Nothing could part them now and he felt like he could never let go of her again. However, after a while, he stepped back and – though most unwillingly – released her from his embrace, very well aware of like a hundred pairs of eyes staring at them.

"Tamina, they can all see us..." he whispered, he pointed out that blinding obvious fact, however, she did not respond to his reminded as he had imagined. The Queen of Alamut did not even look around, she kept her eyes fixed on him, only ever seeing him.

"I know." she answered with a smile, no longer embarrassed by her feelings, no longer wishing to deny or hide them – she simply stood herself on her toes and kissed him.


End file.
